The Knight Captain's Lady: Book 2
by OfficerDonNZ
Summary: Marcus, Shandra and company have found Ammon Jerro's Haven but as usual nothing goes as planned and Neeshka ends up with more questions about her bloodline.
1. Accusations

"Do you _have_ to help train the farm girl today?" Neeshka asked, pouting. "Come and study with _me_ and Sand… please?" It had been several days since Marcus and Neeshka had started studying with the moon elf. Sand had spent most of his time with Neeshka, though, because Marcus had to split his time between the Watch, training Shandra (something Neeshka was not happy about) and studying with Sand.

Marcus let out a long suffering sigh. "Neesh, sweetheart, as much as I'd dearly love to come with you to Sand's, I made a promise to Shandra and I intend to try and keep it."

The tiefling scowled. "I hate it sometimes that you try and keep your promises… though I'm glad you kept your promise to me," she said with a seductive smile.

"Oh no, emotional blackmail isn't going to work, sweetheart, _not_ this time," Marcus said with a grin. "Anyway, after today you should have me all to yourself again, from what Casavir and Khelgar were saying. They've been helping me with Shandra's training. " He put his arms around her and pulled Neeshka into a hug.

"Good, because I'm getting sick of sharing you with another woman," Neeshka said, as she kissed her man.

___________________________________________________________

Nasher was on his throne, Nevalle at his right side. They were talking with Sir Grayson, Lady Nimas, Sir Darmon and Ophala of the Many-Starred Clocks about the progress of the investigation in Blacklake (or lack thereof), when there was a sudden commotion at the door. As they all turned to look, the door to the throne room burst open, and Torio Claven, the Luskan ambassador, strode in, followed by two hapless looking palace guards.

Both guards bowed slightly. "Lord Nasher, forgive us. She said it could not wait," one of them said apologetically.

"It is a matter of some urgency, and there is little time," Torio said, with an impatient gesture towards the guard. "Milord, I come to you with…" she started, a little more casually than was proper, but Nevalle cut the Luskan ambassador off angrily.

"You _will _bow to Lord Nasher," he said, with his eyes narrowing.

"Of course." Torio hastened to adjust her tone. "I meant no disrespect... milord." She bowed.

_Not much, you don__'__t, you Luskan witch_, Nasher thought. "What brings you here, Torio?" he said out loud, and let his irritation over the unsuccessful murder investigation clearly show in his voice. _Let her wonder if she went too far._ "If there is some new dispute with Luskan, speak with the trade guild first, then…"

Torio shook her head. "Oh no, milord. This matter concerns Neverwinter. There is a murderer loose in your city," she said, putting on her best worried face.

"Murderer?" Nasher asked seriously. "And whom has this murderer killed?"

"The entire village of Ember lies dead, milord," Torio replied, looking slightly ill. _At least I don__'__t have to act this part,_ she thought. _Garius is out of control and for what? Some chunks of silver?_

Nasher frowned as he turned to face the Captain of the Nine. "Nevalle, have our scouts reported anything about this?" he asked.

"The village was slaughtered, and by one if your own watchmen, Lieutenant Cole!" Torio snapped. "Now he hides here within your walls. You must initiate a search at once!"

Nasher turned cold, angry eyes on the Luskan Ambassador. "Only one of us wears a crown, yet you dare to give _me_ orders within my halls?" he asked. "I will do _nothing_ until I confirm this village's destruction. Then, if I see fit, I will act. Do _not _test me on this."

"Whatever pleases you, milord. But I would act quickly, lest the murderer slip through your fingers," Torio replied with some insolence. "If that were to happen, I have no doubt there would be _serious_ repercussions." Torio turned to leave; as she was walking away, she added, "I do not need to remind you of the extradition treaty."

"By every God and their mother, what a fool I was to ever sign anything bearing Luskan's seal," Nasher growled, as the door closed after the ambassador.

"I can have Torio detained, Lord Nasher," Nevalle suggested.

Nasher sighed as he smiled. "That would please me a great deal, but she would not be so bold if there were not something to her claims," he said. "Dispatch scouts, Nevalle, and go see Captain Brelaina. I think it would be in our interest to find Lieutenant Cole before Luskan does."

"If I may, Lord Nasher," Sir Darmon spoke up. "Perhaps I should go and see Master Cole, as I am somewhat familiar with his group."

"Very well. See to it, Darmon," Nasher said with a nod of assent. "And when you locate young Lieutenant Cole, send him here." Sir Darmon nodded and left the room.

"I know of someone well suited to aid in our search, milord, an agent of ours, Sand. I think that he can help us find our _true _murderer, no matter how deep Luskan tries to hide him," Nevalle said.

"Sand? I know him, the moon elf wizard from Luskan," Nasher said with a slight frown. "I thought he was our eyes, but not by exactly by choice. Though Kari has befriended him."

"In this matter, milord, we may trust him implicitly. He takes a certain... pleasure... in bringing Luskan truths to light," Nevalle replied.

"Then make it so, Nevalle," Nasher said with a nod of assent. Nevalle nodded and left as well.

"This has to be a Luskan plot, milord," Ophala said softly.

"That much is certain, old friend," Nasher replied. "But how do we prove it? And save the neck of an innocent man?"

"How can you be so sure that Lieutenant Cole is innocent?" Sir Grayson asked, confused.

"Because the Hosttower in Luskan has been hunting the young man for some reason for quite a while now," Nasher said. "It seems they want to get their hands on him very badly. But the damned extradition treaty…" he trailed off, looking at Sir Grayson. "Sir Grayson… you are in need of a squire, are you not?" Nasher asked, an idea forming in his mind.

The knight nodded. "I am milord… but I don't understand."

Nasher smiled. "The extradition treaty with Luskan was split into two parts for a reason. They have the right to dispense low justice for crimes committed in their territory but if Lieutenant Cole was, say, a squire… then he has to be tried here, before me. It would give us the time we need to find out what Luskan is up to." Nasher's eyes shone.

Ophala chuckled. "Torio would have to get up pretty early in the morning to outfox you, milord."

Nasher smiled. "Thank you, Ophala. It will only buy us some time. And Torio will be brought down a peg or two, though she will see it for what it is. It may make her Luskan masters play their hand sooner than they'd like."

"If I may be so bold, milord?" asked Lady Nimas. "Why the interest in the Lieutenant?"

"Apart from the fact he reminds me of myself in my youth, you mean?" Nasher replied. "He has in his possession something that the Hosttower seem to want and I will do all I can to deny it to them. Also, there is another matter that has yet to be finalised, and I may well need his service for that as well." Nasher paused a moment. "But, most importantly of all, I will _not _allow Luskan to kill an innocent man, and treat the law with so little regard. So what say you, Sir Grayson? Will you take the young Lieutenant as your squire?"

"If my lord commands it, I shall," Grayson said with a nod. "But you have to agree that this is most unusual."

"It is, indeed, Sir Grayson but then, we are dealing with Luskan. Unusual is normal for them," Nasher said grimly.

___________________________________________________________

Sir Darmon walked into the _Sunken Flagon_, looking very grim. Lord Nasher had been right. Captain Brelaina had known where to find her Lieutenant… or at least a good place to start looking. Both she and Cormick were shocked and appalled that the snake Torio would claim such a thing.

Darmon saw Elanee seated at one of the tables, reading some druidic tomes Sand had found buried in one of his store rooms. "Good morning, Lady Elanee," he said.

The druid looked up and smiled. "It's good to see you, Darmon, my friend." Her smile faded. "You seem troubled. What is wrong?" the wood elf asked.

"Have you been to the village of Ember recently?" Darmon asked. "It lies just within Luskan territory."

Elanee nodded. "Yes we have, we passed through it on the trail of some githyanki that had kidnapped a woman who was staying here." The druid frowned. "What has happened?" she asked, concerned.

"For whatever reason, Luskan has had the gall to accuse your friend Marcus of slaughtering the entire village," Darmon replied gravely. "Lord Nasher has sent scouts to investigate. I'm here to talk to Marcus about this and send him to see Lord Nasher."

Elanee could not respond for several moments, as she was so shocked. "By the gods, that's outrageous," she said. "Marcus would never do such a thing."

"That was much my thoughts as well when I heard," Darmon replied. "Outrageous or not, I still need to speak to Marcus," he said, turning to the innkeeper and waving him over. "Duncan, you'd better fetch Marcus if he's here. I need to speak to him. It's urgent and you all had better hear what I have to say."

Duncan nodded. "Yes, he's just out the back, I'll go get him."

___________________________________________________________

Shandra was happy, or as happy as she could be since she'd joined up with the oddest group of people she had the misfortune to meet. Well, it wasn't a _complete_ disaster, as she'd found their leader to be attractive, but there was the matter of his tiefling girlfriend. The farm girl suppressed a shudder. Shandra still couldn't accept the fact that Marcus was spoken for, no matter how hard she tried.

"Shandra, is anything wrong?" Marcus asked. "You look as though you're miles away," he said, concerned. They were both in the small exercise yard out the back of the _Flagon_.

"Oh… nothing, really, just thinking," Shandra said, looking sheepish and a little guilty.

"Nothing?" Marcus asked, not believing her. "You've been distracted for the past half hour. That's _not_ nothing, Shandra, so come on out with it," he said with a slight frown.

The farm girl sighed. "Alright, you win, but _please_ don't yell at me. I'd just like to know how an obviously attractive man like you ah… falls for a tiefling?"

Marcus just stared at her for a few moments. He didn't know whether to laugh, cry or scream to the gods. "Shandra, who said I fell for Neesh? She may have fallen for me, you know," he said at last with a smirk.

"Never thought of that…" Shandra muttered. "Still, you obviously find her attractive? I just can't understand why."

Marcus let out a sigh, but before he could answer, Duncan came out, looking troubled. "You better come inside lad. Sir Darmon is here to speak to us all, and I don't think it's anything good."

___________________________________________________________

"There you are, Marcus my friend," Sir Darmon said grimly as he studied the harbourman's face, looking for any sign of guilt. "Luskan has accused you of murder… an entire village, no less. Have you ever heard of Ember?"

The harbourman frowned as he scratched his beard. "You mean that little village that lies about twenty miles past Port Llast?" he asked. "I've been through it I admit, but…"

The knight nodded. "I have to say that I've scraped things from my boots that I respect more than Luskan. But unless we find some means of clearing you of these charges, we will have to surrender you to them," Sir Darmon said with disdain, as he'd never liked the treaty. "We've signed a treaty with Luskan. They have the right to dispense low justice for any crimes committed on their soil. But I'm _not_ about to turn over a loyal member of the Watch to the Luskans on this day or any other and neither is Lord Nasher."

"How in the hells do we do that?" Marcus asked, puzzled. "I'm no knight or anything like that."

Sir Darmon hid his smile. _You are far closer to the truth than you know, my friend,_ he thought. "Yes, that's rather the problem, as your guilt is no doubt preordained in a Luskan court. However, if you were a lord, knight, or even a _squire_, then matters would be different. You would be subject to high justice, and your trial would take place here in Neverwinter, before Lord Nasher." Sir Darmon now allowed his smile to show. "It seems that Lord Nasher may have a way out for you, as he has requested that you go and see him in Castle Never as soon as you can, Marcus. I suspect that he may make you a squire to one of his Knights." Darmon paused a moment. "I suspect that Sir Nevalle may also send a... friend of his... to assist you as he has proven invaluable in such cases in the past." The knight sighed. "Mind you, the matter must still go to trial, and if you cannot prove your innocence, then you will face execution. For now, let's deal with what we can. Pledging yourself to Neverwinter's service will give us time to counter these Luskan lies." Darmon looked into the harbourman's eyes. "And until you answer for these charges, or Lord Nasher says otherwise, the gates of the city will be barred to you. Go see Lord Nasher but do _not _try andleave the city." A stunned silence settled over the _Sunken Flagon_ as Sir Darmon finished speaking.

___________________________________________________________

Sir Nevalle strode into Sand's shop. The moon elf, who was busy teaching Neeshka some advanced concentration techniques, stopped, looked over his shoulder, and sighed. "Continue with those exercises and I shall be back in a few moments, Neeshka."

"Ah, I thought I smelled one of the Nine… and Nevalle, no less, not an aide," Sand said flippantly as he walked towards the other man. "To what do I owe this rare honour, _my liege_?" he asked sarcastically.

"I see your post at the Docks hasn't improved your temperament, Sand." Nevalle remarked, slightly amused, as he looked around. "And when did you take on apprentices? I'd thought you'd sworn off having them after the incident with that girl Qara."

Sand frowned. _Trust you to bring her up, Nevalle,_ he thought bitterly. "Until recently I hadn't found anyone worth my time, if you must know, Nevalle," he shot back. "Yes, well, the docks had been a step _up_ from the Merchant Quarter, actually. Less _politics_… until now." The wizard rubbed his hands together. "So, is there something you wish to interrogate me on, or can I go back to wondering where my life made such a sharp turn?" Sand asked flippantly.

"Something has happened... and I will need your talents to set it right," Nevalle answered in a grim, business-like manner. Neeshka, by this time, had come to stand by the moon elf.

___________________________________________________________

"No way in the hells will I let those Luskans get their hands on you!" Duncan cried angrily. He had to suppress a chill that ran down his spine, as this was too eerily familiar to the innkeeper. Instead of his fear that it would be Neeshka that would face the hangman's noose, it would be his kin.

"But there's still something we can do… right? Sir Darmon has said as much, all you have to do is pledge yourself to one of the knights, and Luskan can't touch you!" Shandra said.

"And we're innocent, besides. I mean, the slaughter of an _entire_ village? That's going too far, even by Luskan standards… isn't it?" Neeshka asked, uncertain, as she entered the inn, a little out of breath.

"Is it?" Bishop asked snidely. "If you have something Luskan wants, they'd kill an entire city for it. They don't care. They attacked Neverwinter once, and even now, they're sending fleets to attack Ruathym," he said coldly. "Give them an excuse, and you'll soon find Luskan blades at your gate."

"Sand, what are _you_ doing here?" Marcus asked when he noticed that Sand had arrived with the tiefling.

"I am here to help you," the wizard said. At Marcus' raised eyebrow, he carried on. "I... seem to have been given a... directive. I have heard of your... troubles with Luskan."

_Hang on,_ the harbourman thought. "Sand, you mean to tell me you're the _friend_ that Darmon said that Sir Nevalle might send?" Marcus asked.

"Ah, you already seem to know of _my liege_." Sarcasm dripped from the last two words. "Know that if you are sent to Luskan, you _will_ be killed," Sand said, matter of fact.

"Tell me something I don't know," Marcus said darkly.

"I realize _Duncan_ may find my sincerity difficult to believe, but allow me to act on your behalf, Marcus. There are laws, and there is right and wrong. I know you try and uphold the law, so I do not believe you are guilty of this... I believe people should answer for their crimes, but it must be just," Sand said.

"What exactly would happen if the harbour boy were sent to Luskan?" Neeshka asked, worried.

Sand tapped his chin in thought. "Well, at best, they would put him on trial… or what_ seems_ to be one, then execute him. At worst, they will dispense with the courtroom mockery and execute him as soon as he steps within the gate. And when I say 'execute', Neeshka, do not think it will be one clean chop of a headman's axe... Luskans have all sorts of inventive ways for executing prisoners that is not best to describe on a full stomach," the wizard said grimly.

"I'm still not convinced why you want to help him," Shandra muttered. She didn't like Sand for some reason. Maybe because he was teaching Neeshka? Shandra wasn't entirely sure.

The moon elf glared at the farm girl. He was well aware of the… rivalry that existed between her and the tiefling. _As if the farm girl has a chance,_ he thought. "If you have ever been ruined by politics, you know that at some point, one must make a stand, or else more will fall. Luskan is not ruled by _men_, it is ruled by _magic_, by the masters of the towers. And I suspect that what they seek may have consequence beyond you, beyond me… for much of the Realms," Sand said, trying to drive the seriousness of the situation home.

"What's the next step then, Sand?" Marcus was glad to have the moon elf on his side.

The wizard smiled. "Fortunately, becoming a squire is enough for our needs. And I believe you have already been told about going to see Lord Nasher, yes?" Marcus nodded at that. "Let me join with you. I have considerable experience with these matters… and foiling Luskan plots is something I _relish,_" Sand said eagerly.

_________________________________________________________

_A/N: restored the missing cut scene between Nervalle and Sand, though again I've added to it for my story._


	2. To become a Squire

"Neeshka, there you are," a woman several years older than the tiefling said. "You've been easy to find, which makes a refreshing change." The small group, made up of the harbourman, Shandra, Sand and Neeshka, stood just outside the Flagon.

"Tasha?" Neeshka asked, uncertain. "What brings you here? Is this about Leldon?"

"In a way I suppose it is," Tasha replied. "He was planning one last job before you… killed him. I'm not sorry he's gone, you were right about him, Neeshka, and I shouldn't have doubted you," she said, hanging her head.

"Aw, come on, Tash, don't be like that," Neeshka said, giving her a hug. "I saw Leldon for what he was. Because I'm a tiefling most guys think I'll spread my legs if they ask me nicely enough." She made a face. "I proved Leldon wrong on that score and he didn't take it so well. So anyway, what was he planning?" the thief in her asked.

Tasha smiled sadly. "Thanks, Neeshka, you always tried to be good to me even if I did treat you like crap at times. Guess that was Leldon rubbing off on me," she said. "He was planning on robbing the Collector in Blacklake. He thought if he could do that, then he'd be the best thief in Neverwinter."

Neeshka snorted. "And what about the trail of bodies he'd leave behind? Trust me, Tash, you're not much of a thief if you have to kill everyone just to loot a place." The tiefling was proud of the fact that in all the burglaries she'd done, she'd never killed anyone.

"Yeah, that's what had me worried about the job, Neeshka," Tasha admitted. "Leldon wasn't known for being subtle. I came up with the idea of goading you into doing most of the work for him, and then all he had to do was walk in and take the stuff." The thief smiled weakly.

"Tash, that may have just worked on me a few months ago, but not now," Neeshka replied. "My life has changed a lot, so being known as the best thief in Neverwinter just doesn't worry me as much anymore," the tiefling admitted. _Not if I become the master of spies,_ she thought.

"What's this?" Marcus asked from behind her. "Am I hearing you right, Neesh? Not wanting to be the best thief in Neverwinter? You sure you're feeling alright, sweetheart?" the harbourman said, teasing.

Neeshka playfully swatted him with her tail. "Behave, you!" she cried. "See what I have to put up with, Tash? The man's incorrigible."

"Pot, kettle, black, Neesh," Marcus replied as he put his arms around her waist. "But that's why I love you," he said, kissing her on the cheek.

Tasha couldn't help but smile. "I envy you, Neeshka," she admitted. "You've got yourself someone special, don't ever let him go," the thief advised.

_You're not the only one who's envious, lady,_ Shandra thought bitterly. She wanted to be where the tiefling stood, nestled in the harbourman's embrace. _What are you thinking, Shandra Jerro?_ she asked herself. _He's so in love with the tiefling he's not going to take much notice of you._ Shandra shook her head. _There's got to be a way,_ she thought.

Sand had been watching proceedings carefully, or more accurately, he had been watching Shandra. The moon elf sighed and shook his head in despair. _Some people have to learn the hard way,_ he thought.

Neeshka grinned. "Part of my master plan, Tash, snag myself a decent prospect before I get too old."

Marcus pretended to look hurt. "Is that all I am, Neesh?" he asked "A decent prospect?"

"Oh no, you're much more than that, harbour boy, much more," the tiefling purred seductively as her tail caressed his butt. Neeshka then turned her attention back to the thief. "So what are you planning on doing now that Leldon's gone?"

Tasha shrugged. "I don't really know, Neeshka. I've got a bit of money tucked away but after that's gone..."

"Tasha, come and see me at the watch post here in the docks, in a few hours," Marcus said, having an idea as one of his responsibilities was recruiting new watchmen. "I might be able to offer you a job, if you're interested."

"I'll be there, Lieutenant Cole," Tasha replied with a nod, and then she walked off down the street.

* * *

Kari slipped out of the shadows and walked towards the throne where Nasher sat, a scowl on her face. "Milord, this is worse than Aarin and I thought. If this Black Garius is using Torio to get his hands on the harbourman and the silver shards he possesses, there must be something about them that is important."

Nasher nodded. "I agree, Kari, but what could it be? And what about the githyanki?"

Kari blew out her cheeks. "Well, we've talked to the sage Aldanon and the shards are the remains of a githyanki silver sword, which explains why the gith were here. But _how_ the sword was broken may be vital in solving why it's so important to a Hosttower mage." The former spymaster frowned. "The first reports of silver shards don't occur till just after the battle with the King of Shadows at West Harbour. There is even one rumoured to be here in Neverwinter." She looked Nasher in the eyes. "The odd thing is, the only person we know of who had such a weapon was the court wizard at the time, a man named Ammon Jerro."

"Jerro?" Ophala asked with a frown. "Isn't that why the gith hit the archives in Blacklake?"

The red-haired woman gave a nod. "Yes, as near as we can tell, the gith were looking for information on Ammon's Haven, a private retreat of some sort according to the sage Aldanon. Unfortunately, the gith destroyed the information on its location, but it seems he has one living descendant, a farmer in Highcliff named Shandra." Kari grinned. "Who is now, for want of a better description, under the protection of our harbourman, Marcus Cole."

Nasher leaned back on his throne and drummed the fingers of his left hand on its side as he thought. "It would seem that Master Cole is far more important to events than we know, than _he_ knows," he said after a while. Nasher looked at Sir Grayson. "When the young man gets here, you'll take him as your squire. We need to find out what's going on here, and he may know more without realising it. Kari, I want you to remain as well."

* * *

The small group walked to Castle Never for a meeting with Lord Nasher: a prospect that had the harbourman more than a little wound up. Marcus began to tell Sand about the shards to see his reaction, now that Neeshka had told the harbourman about what had happened after he'd passed out when facing Zeeaire.

"You know, I've found out what those shards of silver are, Sand," Marcus remarked.

"Oh?" Sand asked. "So Aldanon was able to tell, then?"

"Yes, when he'd actually_ stay_ on the subject. You sound surprised?" Marcus inquired.

'I admit that I am. I didn't think he'd know, but he seemed your best bet. So what _are_ they, then?" Sand asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Marcus smiled. "The remains of a githyanki silver sword, no less."

There was a very long pause before Sand spoke. "That's something I never even considered. But how did you know the shards were magical?"

"That's a bit of a tale… but the short version is that I have a shard in me. Have done almost all my life. And I never knew until recently," Marcus said bitterly.

There was another long delay before Sand responded. "Wait. You mean to tell me that you actually have a shard _physically_ inside you?" he asked, really enjoying the mystery.

Marcus grinned, "I do. I'm sure you know about the battle that was fought at West Harbour years ago against the King of Shadows." The harbourman hesitated a moment. "That night I was the only one to live through the destruction of the village. A shard from a sword passed through my mother somehow, killing her and embedding itself in me," he said sadly. "I've carried it around ever since without ever knowing."

Neeshka leaned her head against Marcus' shoulder and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently, as her tail snaked its way around his waist. In her own way, Neeshka was letting him know she was there for him. Words somehow didn't seem necessary.

Shandra couldn't help but scowl at the very obvious display of affection by Neeshka. It was clear that Marcus was very comfortable in her presence. The farm girl was also aware that the tiefling --knowingly or not-- was clearly saying that the harbourman was _hers_. Shandra sighed. Why had she even thought she could go after the harbourman? She wasn't that much of a damsel in distress, was she?

Sand was silent for a long time as he contemplated what Marcus had told him, but he at last spoke. "I was right. The other shards resonate when they are in your possession because of the one inside you. Hence, you can sense they are magical. But why they do so, I can not explain." He sounded satisfied that he'd solved part of the puzzle.

"What did you just say, Edmund?" Axle asked with raised eyebrows. The shadow thief wasn't sure what to think.

"You heard me, Axle," the knight replied. "That Watch Lieutenant, Cole, has been accused of butchering an entire village, Ember, that oh so conveniently lies within Luskan territory."

Axle frowned. "Cole wouldn't do such a thing, he's too law abiding for that. But it is something that Luskan would have no problem in doing."

"That's what I was thinking, even if his lady friend has raised more than a few eyebrows at the castle," Edmund said with a chuckle. "He's the talk of Blacklake, that is, when the nobles aren't talking about Sir Darmon and the elf. Besides, butchering an entire village sounds more like something your lot might get up to," the knight added as an afterthought, to see what kind of reaction he'd get.

Axle scowled. "If any of 'my lot,' as you so eloquently put it, Edmund, did anything remotely like that I'd be among the first to hand them over." _Now there's an idea, hand Moire back to the watch to get them off my back_, he thought. _I'll keep that in mind._ "I may have sanctioned the odd assassination from time to time, but there are lines I'm not willing to cross. There is nothing to be gained by the slaughter of simple villagers," the shadow thief said, reprimanding his friend.

The knight raised his hands. "Point taken, Axle," he replied. "So are you going to offer to help Cole?"

Axle smiled. "No, I don't think I'll need to. From what you've said, Nasher has everything well in hand. Though I'm curious, would you have taken Cole as your squire?"

Edmund pondered the question for a time. "Yes, I think I would, even if it was just to see the look on Lord Nasher's face," he replied with a grin. "The old man might look down his nose at me, but I've never done anything that's forced him to strip me of my knighthood or throw me in the castle dungeons. I'm not about to start, either."

* * *

Sand cast a long look at the farm girl. He'd been considering his options regarding her interest in the harbourman. _Normally this is something I'd never get involved with, _the wizard thought._ But I fear there is more at work here that any of us realise. _"Shandra, my dear, you really must stop mooning over him. It's so unbecoming of you."

"I'm_ not_ mooning, Sand. Least of all over _him_," Shandra said, nodding at Marcus, who had put an arm around the tiefling.

"My dear, you _are_. It's degrading," the wizard replied as he considered his next words carefully. "I tell you this for your own sake, and if you ever repeat it I _will_ deny it." Sand paused. "I've been training them both in the Art for the past few days and I've_ felt_ something. I'm not certain what it is, perhaps an arcane link, or something to do with Neeshka's heritage, I just do not know. What I_ do_ know is that their destinies are _linked_. If one should fall or they should be separated, then the future is lost." The moon elf looked hard at the farm girl. "For all our sakes, stay out of their private life."

Shandra just stared at the moon elf, slack jawed. She didn't know what to think. Going by the deadly serious expression on his face, Sand believed what he was saying.

Unaware of the discussion going on behind him, Marcus was glad that Neeshka was at his side. He had something to keep his mind off the fact he would soon set foot inside the castle of the man that ruled Neverwinter and its surrounding lands. To say that the harbourman was overwhelmed at the thought would be accurate, for at the end of the day he was but a simple man from a simple village.

"Harbour boy?" Neeshka asked softly. "Do you… do you want to run away with me?" she whispered, looking slightly frightened.

The harbourman cast a curious glance at her. "Run away? What do you mean, Neesh?" he asked, concerned.

"I mean run away from these accusations. I don't want to lose you. I mean… you're not capable of doing something like that. I just want to run away with you, keep you safe." Neeshka looked up her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I… I love you, Marcus Cole, and I want you to live long enough to show you just how much I've come to love you."

They'd stopped walking and Marcus nodded to Sand; he and Neeshka would catch up once they'd finished talking. The moon elf inclined his head in acknowledgement and dragged Shandra, who was slightly unwilling, away.

Marcus pulled the tiefling into a hug. "Sweetheart, I can't run away from this and you know I can't. As much as I like the idea of us running off somewhere and making wild passionate love," his eyes shone at the thought, "I have to face this. I will not let Black Garius win, I promise you. He wants me and the shards." He kissed her softly. "I love you, Neesh, but my conscience says I have to clear my name to be worthy of you."

Neeshka blushed. She was also trying not to cry. "I think I understand, harbour boy. You're so unlike me it's scary at times. I'd just bolt and to hells with it." She shook her head. "But you? You're going to face this head on, come what may." Neeshka hugged Marcus tightly. "You're crazy, you know that, Cole?" she said.

Marcus chuckled a little. "I think I've been called crazy once or twice, Neesh, and more because I fell in love with you. But you know what? I don't care." He kissed her deeply, both oblivious of the fact they were in the middle of Blacklake. The audience that had gathered for the bard competition at the lakeside theatre certainly got more than they'd bargained for.

* * *

Duncan sank into a chair, still in shock. "This is a nightmare. It has to be. No way Marcus could have done such a thing."

Bishop snorted. "Don't know about that, Duncan. Reckon the demon girl could get him to do something like that if she asked him nicely enough. He's in love with her and people do outrageous things when they aren't in control."

Duncan glared at the ranger but it was Casavir who spoke. "You know _nothing_ of their relationship, Bishop. So do not bring the fact that Neeshka just happens to have extraplanar blood into this."

Bishop turned to the holy warrior, a scowl on his face. "But I do have eyes, _paladin_! She's all over him a like a rash! You can't tell me she doesn't have some unfavourable influence over him? She never leaves his side, or so it seems!"

Casavir was unsure how to respond. Elanee just shook her head in dismay. Khelgar, however, marched up to the ranger. "You listen to me, you miserable excuse for a human being! You know nothing, so shut your trap or I'll shut it for you!" the dwarf bellowed, venting his own frustration and anger. "If anything, _he__'__s_ the one with influence over her. The tiefling's a good kid so I won't hear her being maligned like this! I'm warning you, ranger, behave or you'll be dealing with an Ironfist. Both of mine!" The irate dwarf then turned and marched away from the ranger. Bishop just scowled.

Casavir watched the whole thing silently, then nodded to himself as he left the Flagon to visit the battle priestess, Serena.

* * *

Marcus almost stopped dead in his tracks when he walked into Nasher's throne room. Walking through the castle had been enough of a shock, but who the harbourman saw awaiting him almost did him in. For it was not just Lord Nasher and Sir Nevalle as he'd thought it would be, though they were there. There were five other people, four of whom Marcus recognised. There was Lady Nimas and Sir Darmon, both of the Nine, going by the blue and white tunics they wore, Kari, the former spymaster, Ophala, and another knight that the harbourman didn't know. Fortunately, Sand had given Marcus a slight push to keep him moving. Had they all heard the wild accusations made by Luskan? Judging by their grim expressions, the entire assemblage had.

"What in the hells is Ophala doing here?" Marcus hissed.

Neeshka looked a little ashamed. "Didn't seem important. But Ophala is a Cloaktower mage, and a former adventuring companion of Lord Nasher," she said quietly.

All Marcus could do was nod as he stopped what he hoped was a respectable distance from the throne and bowed stiffly. "You wished to see me, milord?" _Torm give me strength, I don__'__t want to stuff up now_, he thought, overwhelmed.

Nasher had been studying the young harbourman as soon as he'd entered the throne room and he had been impressed. Marcus was undoubtedly out of his depth, given his simple origins but it hardly showed. The young man only seemed slightly uncertain, but his slight hesitation at the door and his eyes going wide at the sight of the assembly told Nasher that he was nervous about this, which was understandable.

"I did indeed, Master Cole." Nasher said. "You are aware of the accusations that the Luskan ambassador Torio Claven has made?"

"I am, milord." Marcus replied calmly. _Luskan ambassador? Crap! Can this get any worse? _the harbourman thought dismally. Neeshka took his hand and squeezed reassuringly. Marcus turned his head slightly and smiled his thanks. Neeshka replied with a slight smile of her own. If Lord Nasher had not been watching them closely, he doubted he'd have noticed the subtle exchange.

"And you have been through the village of Ember?" Nasher asked. "Is that correct?"

The harbourman seemed unsure as to how to answer. Kari took a step forward from her place at Nasher's side. "Marcus, my friend, Lord Nasher only wants to help you, we all do. But to do that, we must know what happened," she said warmly with an infectious smile.

"Kari is right, you know, Marcus," Sand said quietly from his place behind the harbourman. "You can trust her word. And at the moment, being truthful is the wisest course."

Marcus gave a nod to Lord Nasher, reassured. "I have, milord. My companions and I passed through the village in pursuit of a large force of githyanki, who had kidnapped the woman to my left, Shandra, from my uncle's inn, the Sunken Flagon," the harbourman said. He'd told the truth, even if he hadn't gone into everything in detail.

Nasher nodded as if that had been what he'd expected to hear. "Then it seems Luskan is using the treaty for their own ends, and I will not allow that," he said in a low voice. "You've put me in an awkward position, Master Cole, though it was not your doing, but Torio's. Sir Grayson here has agreed to take you as his squire, as he just happened to be in need of one," Nasher said, indicating the knight Marcus didn't know. "You are to spend the rest of the tenday with him, until our scouts return with proof of the ambassador's claims. By then you'll be a squire, and your trial will have to take place here in Neverwinter and_ not_ in Luskan."

"That's… it?" Marcus asked, not daring to believe his ears. "I'm… a squire?"

Sir Grayson stepped forward, a slight smile on his face. "Not quite so simple as that, I'm afraid, but years of service will be passed over in your case." The knight's smile grew. "Still, you should count yourself lucky to avoid years of caring for my horse and scouring the rust from my arms and armour. Your need is great so I'll take you as my charge," he said, shaking the harbourman's hand. "I am Sir Grayson Corett. My sword is sworn to Nasher, Neverwinter, and Tyr. And it falls to me to teach you chivalry, so that you will not dishonour me overmuch as your knight."

There was a most unladylike snort from behind the knight. "Oh, come on, Grayson, give the kid a break. He'll probably be showing you up before too long, you know," Kari said, a wicked grin on her face, her green eyes dancing with mischief.

"Kari!" Nasher scolded, though he too was smiling.

"Sorry, milord," the former spymaster said, still grinning.

"I'd be honoured to serve as your squire," Marcus said, trying not to smile at Kari's antics.

"Good. You appear capable of defending yourself, so we'll not discuss that," Grayson replied. "But it's getting late and you've had a trying day. Say your good byes to your friends and I'll wait for you outside the throne room." So saying, the knight left the room.

Formal audience over, Sand bid the harbourman good luck and then went to talk to Ophala. Shandra, feeling like a third wheel, and not knowing what else to do, followed the moon elf after saying goodbye to Marcus. The harbourman turned to Neeshka, and let out a sigh on seeing the look in her eyes and the determined set of her jaw.

"Neesh, I don't think you can come with me," Marcus said, as he placed a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm not happy about this. I'd rather be by your side and keep you safe," Neeshka said quietly. "It's not like I don't trust the knight, but we haven't really been apart, you know?"

Marcus raised an eyebrow at that. "You're right, we haven't, have we? But you know me, Neesh, I'm hard to kill."

The tiefling smiled. "Only because you have me watching your back, harbour boy," she said, kissing him softly before she made her way out of the throne room.

* * *

"So you feel it too, Ophala," Sand said, feeling relieved and more than a little vindicated.

"I do. And you're right, it's unwise to have them separated. Their link, whatever its cause, isn't fully formed," Ophala said. "See Sir Grayson on your way out. Tell him to expect a tiefling guest. The pull of their link is great and Neeshka will not be able to stay away for long. Fortunately, as their link fully forms, she'll lose the desire to be so close to him. Grayson may not understand, but will go along with it _because I said that he should_."

The moon elf nodded. "Thank you, Lady Ophala. Come, Shandra," Sand said, as he left the throne room with a very bewildered farm girl in tow.

* * *

Sir Grayson and Marcus had been walking in silence to the knight's estate. It seemed to the harbourman that the knight had something on his mind. At last Sir Grayson spoke. "You and your lady, the tiefling, are close… if you don't mind my saying so."

Marcus almost choked. "Heh, I guess it's a little obvious, isn't it?" he said. "And I'm sure you've heard the many stories doing the rounds of Neverwinter about us." _And there are stories. All outrageous and untrue. My favourites are the ones that say that Neesh has cast some sort of spell on me. And I can__'__t help but wonder if there is some truth to that because it__'__s almost as if she did bewitch me when we first met,_ Marcus thought.

"Indeed I have. But I've found that no matter how outrageous the story, there is usually some truth to it, no matter how small," Grayson replied.

The harbourman snorted. "Well, I can assure you…Sir, that the only thing that's remotely true about any of them is that Neesh and I have never really been apart since we met on the road to Fort Locke. At least it seems that way… Not that I mind that much," Marcus said, a slightly silly grin on his face.

* * *

Lady Nimas turned to face Lord Nasher, a disbelieving look on her face. "Milord, when you said that you had some other unresolved matter that Master Cole could help you with, you were meaning his tiefling companion?"

Kari smiled. "What's the matter, Nimas? The clue that Neeshka was wearing my old armour not enough for you?" she asked the other woman.

"Kari! You're insufferable," Nasher said, trying to suppress his amusement at the rogue's needling of the knight.

"I do my best, milord," Kari replied innocently. For all her time spent in Nasher's service, Kari had never felt completely comfortable with the ways of court. She was too much the rebel for that and it showed.

* * *

Sir Grayson and Marcus had entered the knight's estate in Blacklake and the harbourman had then been introduced to the knight's wife, Lady Aeryn, and their daughter Sarah.

Marcus stiffened in utter shock on seeing Sarah Corett, for the young woman could almost have been Amie's twin. Marcus honestly thought his friend was back from the dead, though he knew that wasn't likely. "I'm sorry, Sir Grayson, Lady Aeryn, for staring at your daughter so," Marcus managed to get out, once he'd regained the power of speech. "It's just that she looks so much…" he had to turn away from the young woman, "…like a dear departed friend, that she could be her twin." The harbourman felt his tears welling up behind his eyelids. He realised with some horror that'd he'd never really had the chance to grieve for Amie with all that had seemed to be happening to him.

Marcus wished that a certain tiefling were there. And, almost as if his thoughts had summoned her, the harbourman felt a familiar pair of arms and a tail wrap themselves around him. "I'm here, harbour boy," Neeshka whispered. Marcus turned in her embrace, buried his head in her shoulder, and at last grieved for his dead friend.


	3. The Vigil

"Your vigil is a time for reflection and contemplation. It is a sacred tradition. All who would become squires spend a night in the Solace Glade. You must spend the night alone, of course. Most choose to reflect on their vows, or to ask the blessing of their gods. On the next morning, I will welcome you into our brotherhood," Sir Grayson explained to Marcus at his estate.

It had been almost a tenday since Lord Nasher had entrusted the young man into the care of one of his knights. In that time, Sir Grayson had passed on what he could and Nasher's scouts, returned from Ember, partly confirmed Torio's claims. The village had been wiped from the map. Every man, woman and child had been slain, but it looked to be the work of a large group and not a single man as the ambassador had claimed. There were other things the scouts had found odd, but they had dared not dally in Luskan territory.

"I understand, Sir Grayson. However, I'm sure you'll agree that Neeshka will not like that one bit," Marcus replied dryly.

The knight laughed. "Yes, I'm sure. You are a very lucky man, Marcus Cole. Some see only her heritage and nothing else," Grayson said. "Having had the young lady stay in my house for almost a tenday, I've seen her for what she really is. A charming, if mischievous, young woman." He smiled. "You've found yourself a very loving and loyal companion, unless I miss my guess."

"Thank you, Sir Grayson," Marcus replied, feeling a bit embarrassed about the knight's praise of Neeshka, though he wasn't sure why. "There is one thing I'd like to do before we go to the Solace Glade. I should really check in at the Watch post in the docks to see how things are going."

"I understand, Marcus. I'll wait for you by the district gates." Grayson was pleased to see that the harbourman still took his Watch duties seriously.

* * *

"Aden..." Marcus's voice trailed off as he raised his eyebrows at what he saw. The watch post was empty save for two people. Sergeant Aden was seated at a desk, and on his lap sat the girl Tasha. They were busy kissing and totally oblivious to the harbourman's presence. _I suppose that's what Neeshka and I look like sometimes, _Marcus thought with amusement.

The harbourman grinned evilly as he walked slowly to where they were. "You better not let Captain Brelaina catch you at this," he said in a low voice. Both Aden and Tasha seemed to jump ten feet in the air before they hastily saluted Marcus.

"Uh, sorry, sir," Aden blurted, though he wasn't the least bit sorry about kissing Tasha.

Marcus chuckled. "Well, I didn't expect to find this when I told Tasha to come and see me. Mind you, I didn't expect a lot of things the past tenday."

Tasha blushed. "We knew each other when we were younger..." she started.

Marcus raised a hand to stop her. "It's alright, Tasha, I'm not going to rag on the pair of you. I just came by to see how things are, and from what I saw I'd say they're just fine," he said with a grin. "I'm glad to see you've joined up even though the hours are crap and pay is equally bad."

Tasha shrugged. "It's steady coin, and then I bumped into Aden and things got a lot better," she replied with a small smile.

"So I saw," Marcus deadpanned. "I have Sir Grayson waiting for me so I better be going. Just make sure the captain or Cormick don't catch you... making out while on duty," he said as he turned away. Pausing, the harbourman turned back. "On second thought, no fooling about while you're both on duty, and that's an order. You didn't know I was here; I could have been anyone, do I make myself clear?" Marcus barked, a little more harshly than he'd intended.

"Yes sir, understood, sir. It won't happen again, sir," Aden replied, standing ram rod straight.

Marcus sighed. "Gods, Aden, take it easy. Just be a little more careful. As I keep getting told by Sir Grayson, whenever Neeshka and I get a bit too... frisky, there's a time and a place." Then the harbourman smiled. "I suppose he doesn't want his daughter seeing something she shouldn't." _A bit late for that, Sir Grayson, _he thought, _as Sarah has caught Neeshka fondling me in the hallway once that we know of. The girl's gasp was a giveaway_. "Though sadly Neeshka, and lately myself, are having trouble waiting for said time and place."

Tasha laughed. "Sorry sir, but that sounds like Neeshka. If she wants something or in this case someone, she's not shy about going after it."

Marcus smiled ruefully. "Yes, and don't I know it."

* * *

Sir Grayson nodded as they entered a field just outside Neverwinter's walls. "Here we are: the Solace Glade. Every knight and squire of Neverwinter has touched this sacred ground. To Helm, to Tempus, to Torm, and to Tyr have prayers been given. Think on that, think on the fellowship you wish to join, perhaps clear your mind and think of nothing. I will return in the morning, and you will greet the new day as my squire."

"I'll see you in the morning, then, Sir Grayson," Marcus said.

"Indeed. I take my leave of you and your thoughts." With that, Sir Grayson turned and left the harbourman in a darkening and empty field.

_So this is it, no turning back now._ Marcus thought as he watched the knight leave. _It's a means to out manoeuvre Luskan, but my life is no longer my own, is it?_ he pondered. _I_ _don't think it really has been since the attack on West Harbour, though. Tomorrow I'll be a squire in the service of Neverwinter. So much for going home after all this blows over. Still, things may not be so bad as long as I have Neeshka at my side._ Marcus looked up and sent a prayer to Torm and Tymora. _That's all I ask, to have Neeshka at my side, for I love her dearly._ The harbourman turned over the tiefling's suggestion in his mind. _Running away with her has some appeal. It's an option I suppose, not a very smart one or correct but an option all the same. _Marcus snorted; he wouldn't run.

The harbourman let out a sigh as he sat down. It was going to be a very long, lonely night.

* * *

"You love him very much." Sarah Corett observed as she watched the tiefling pace back and forth, her tail swishing about in agitation.

Neeshka looked over at the younger woman and smiled. "Yeah, as scary as I found that to admit in the beginning, I do." She stopped pacing and turned to face Sarah. "Marcus is almost like some romantic story book hero, where he sweeps the damsel in distress off her feet." The tiefling laughed. "I guess I was a bit of that when we first met. I'll always be grateful to him for saving my life. Don't think either of us expected to be where we are, now, though. I know I sure didn't."

Sarah smiled sadly. "I think I understand, Neeshka. He's always been polite, very formal when we've spoken. Sometimes I see the pain in his eyes if we meet suddenly. Do I really look like his friend?" she asked.

Neeshka shook her head. "I wish I could answer that, Sarah, but I've never met Amie. Going by the harbour boy's reaction, though, I'd say you look very much like her, enough to trigger some painful memories. Her death wasn't pleasant," she replied sadly.

Sarah walked over and hugged the older tiefling, and after a few moments they separated. "Now, you want to sneak out to the Solace Glade, don't you?" she asked.

Neeshka tried to look hurt but her smirk ruined the effect. "Am I so obvious?" she replied.

"After almost a tenday of teaching me to pick about every lock in the estate, yes," Sarah said, grinning. "I'm not sure what father would think of my new found skills, though."

"That's why you're not supposed to tell him." Neeshka winked. She'd been teaching Sarah lock picking as a way to keep her out of Marcus's way, and to learn the layout of the knight's estate, like any good thief.

* * *

Marcus wasn't sure how much time had passed but it was well after dusk when he heard an all too familiar voice in the darkness. The harbourman groaned inwardly. The farm girl couldn't be this dense, surely, by Torm? Marcus was half expecting Neeshka to show up, though. It was still early and possible that the tiefling would put in an appearance. She'd just be _thrilled _to see Shandra.

"Are you here? I can barely see anything out here," Shandra whispered as she made her way to the small campfire, which was the only light in the otherwise dark field.

"Shandra? What in the Nine Hells are you doing here?" Marcus asked, more than a little annoyed that she hadn't followed his instructions… _again_.

"Look, the way trouble follows you, there's no way I'd let you come out here alone," Shandra scoffed.

"Shandra, in case you'd forgotten, this is called the _Solace_ Glade, for a very good reason. I'm meant to stand this vigil _alone_. It's tradition, strangely enough. But thanks for coming," Marcus said with a rueful smile.

"You really believe this stuff, don't you? Maybe I was wrong about knights," Shandra said, slightly impressed. "Well, I'm training just like you are. My mentor told me to follow his lead, so here I am. If you think I'm leaving now, think again," she said, a challenge in her voice. Marcus just rolled his eyes. Shandra looked around. "Anyway, I doubt I could find my way back to Neverwinter in the dark. If I left now, I'd only end up being attacked by githyanki or demons, so I think right here by you is probably the safest place on Faerûn for me," she said, turning back to face Marcus. "Plus, I wanted to see if any of the gods would want to inflict further punishment on you."

Marcus smiled a little at that last remark. _I__'__d be more worried about the punishment that Neesh would want to inflict on you if she catches you, so next to me would become the most unsafe place on all of Faerûn_, he thought.

Shandra looked at the harbourman for a few moments before speaking. "You never did answer me when I asked you what you see in Neeshka, why you find her attractive."

"Yes, well, Sir Darmon arrived, didn't he," Marcus said flippantly. He cast a long look at the farmer turned warrior. "Why shouldn't I find Neeshka attractive, Shandra?" he asked, turning her question back at her.

Shandra sighed. "Well… she has horns and a tail, you know. She's a tiefling. That's, uh… in case you hadn't noticed."

The harbourman just shook his head. "I'm well aware of the fact that Neeshka is a tiefling, as her horns and tail would tend to indicate." He grinned wickedly. "And if you really must know, Shandra, I find her horns and tail rather sexy." Marcus' grin grew. "Considering what Neesh can_ do_ with her tail. Now that was…_ interesting,_ shall we say."

Shandra just sat, slack jawed, on the log that was serving as their seat, at the harbourman's very open answer. He actually found the tiefling attractive because of her demonic heritage!

Marcus sat, watching the farm girl, and started to chuckle. He knew she'd misunderstood his answer but he hadn't gone out of his way to be that clear either. One thing he did notice was that Shandra was jealous of Neeshka.

"Shandra… I don't believe this, you're jealous of Neesh?" Marcus asked as he started to laugh.

"No! I am not jealous of that… that tiefling whore!" Shandra yelled, and then clamped a hand over her mouth, mortified at what she'd said.

Marcus had suddenly stopped laughing. "I hope to Torm that was a slip of the tongue, Shandra," he said seriously.

"I'm sorry," Shandra said sheepishly. "I didn't intend to insult her."

Marcus nodded. "I accept your apology; I can't imagine you meant that. But it does prove my theory, you're jealous of Neesh," he said with a smile. "Which is really ironic, considering Neesh is just as jealous of you."

Shandra's face scrunched up. "Huh? What do you mean? How could Neeshka possibly be jealous of me? She has you and I, well… I don't."

Marcus stood and sat next to the farm girl. "Shandra, Neeshka has had a very rough life. And no, I'm not going into details. All you need know is that she's been mistrusted and mistreated most of her life because she's a tiefling. With me so far?" he asked. Shandra just nodded. "Good. Then I come along and treat her like a person, like a _woman_. The fact that Neesh is a tiefling doesn't matter to me. What does is_ who_ she is, not what she is. Do you understand?" Marcus asked.

Shandra nodded. "I think so. But why is she jealous?"

The harbourman smiled. "That's actually simple to…" he trailed off, looking around toward the far tree line. Marcus got the feeling that a certain red-haired tiefling was scowling and weighing the merits of frying the farm girl. Marcus stood and looked back at Shandra. "Do as I say this time and stay here. I'm going to check on something. I shouldn't be long."

* * *

Neeshka knew that she really shouldn't be out here but she was glad she'd come, as she wasn't happy. In fact she was scowling and wondering if she could get away with cooking the farm girl, Shandra. Why did it always seem that Shandra had to be near the harbour boy?

"Neesh, took you long enough to get here. I was expecting you sooner. Instead, Shandra arrived, as you can see," Marcus said as he approached the tiefling.

"Well, I'd have been here sooner but Sarah wouldn't leave me alone," Neeshka said, pouting a little. She'd gotten on surprisingly well with Sir Grayson's daughter. "So what's _she_ doing here?"

"Are you just a little jealous, sweetheart?" Marcus asked as he put his arms around Neeshka. "You shouldn't be, you know, as Shandra is the one jealous of _you_," he said, kissing her softly.

"The farm girl is jealous of… _me_?" Neeshka asked. "How, why?"

"I thought that was obvious, sweetheart. You have me and Shandra doesn't. Simple, really," Marcus said with a smile. "Though I've got to admit I find this situation little surreal, to be honest."

The tiefling smiled. "I like the thought of that, harbour boy," she said kissing the harbourman.

They'd likely continued to kiss for some time if it hadn't been for a sudden blood curdling scream from the middle of the field.

"That's Shandra," Marcus said with a sigh, as he separated himself from Neeshka and ran off towards the small campfire, drawing his longsword as he went.

"The farm girl had better be worth all this bother," Neeshka grumbled as she ran after the harbourman.

* * *

"Solace Glade, my tail!" Neeshka spat, after they'd dealt with the last of the three Luskan thugs. "Is the farm girl alright?"

Marcus nodded from where he knelt by Shandra. "As far as I can tell, yes." He looked up at the tiefling. "You'll have to take her back to the Flagon and get Elanee to look her over."

"Do I_ have_ to?" Neeshka asked with a frown.

Marcus couldn't help but smile. "Yes, you do. I can't leave here until Sir Grayson comes for me. Anyway, it may do the two of you some good to… oh, I don't know… actually talk to each other?"

Neeshka let out a sigh. "Oh, alright, but you owe me big time for this, you know, Cole?" she said, pointing a finger at him.

Marcus grinned roguishly. "Have no fear, sweetheart. I'm sure I can think of _something_ to make it up to you." His blue eyes blazed with the passion he felt for the tiefling.

* * *

"Come on, farm girl, stay with me, not much longer and we'll be back at the Flagon," Neeshka said, as she helped Shandra along the streets of Neverwinter.

"Ugh… what happened, Neeshka?" Shandra asked groggily.

"Not sure, looks like some Luskan thugs got the drop on you. Luckily they were more interested in the harbour boy than you," Neeshka replied as she kicked the door of the Flagon open with her boot.

"What in the hells happened, lass?" Duncan asked as he came over, looking worried and giving Neeshka a hand with the still barely conscious Shandra.

"You _really_ don't want to know, Uncle Dunk," the tiefling answered. "Hey, tree worshiper, need a hand here. Harbour boy says to check the farm girl over."

Elanee rose from her place, a bemused expression on her face at Neeshka's use of her name. "Certainly, I'll do what I can to assist," the druid said as she followed.

With the help of Duncan, Neeshka soon had Shandra in her room, and then Elanee shooed the men, Khelgar, Duncan and Casavir, out so the women could work in peace. Elanee assured the paladin if she needed his aid she'd call him.

* * *

"What happened?" Sir Grayson asked, as he saw the three bodies of the Luskan assassins lying near to where Marcus sat.

"I was attacked by who I think were Luskan assassins. They are not a problem any longer, as you can see," Marcus said as he stood up.

Grayson nodded slowly as he studied the bodies. "No doubt they caught wind of our plan, and saw this as their last chance to judge you as they wished. Either way, their efforts have failed and that is all that matters," he said, turning to face the harbourman. "Though I do not think you were alone when they attacked. Some of their injuries could have only been inflicted by a rapier, the same weapon that your lady uses."

"Yes, that was the case, Sir Grayson," Marcus replied, looking a bit sheepish.

"As I said, a mischievous young woman. No matter, what's done is done. Perhaps it was fortunate she was out here," the knight said. "Marcus Cole, I take you as my squire, and bind you to the service of the throne of Neverwinter. This title also admits you into the nobility. For truly there can be no charge nobler than protecting one's home from those who would threaten it." Grayson shook Marcus' hand. "Come, Nasher should be informed of your change in station," he said as they walked out of the Solace Glade and back to Neverwinter.

* * *

Sir Grayson and Squire Marcus were walking along the Great Hallway of Castle Never toward the throne room where they'd meet Lord Nasher. As they approached both could hear a female voice that belonged to Torio Claven, the Luskan ambassador.

"What is the delay, Lord Nasher? And why is the man not locked in a cell? Surely you know how dangerous he is," she said. Her patience was clearly wearing thin.

When Nasher spoke, his voice had an edge to it. "As I told you, ambassador, I am still going over the reports from my scouts that_ seem_ to confirm your claims. Once I am satisfied that everything is in order, then and _only _then will he be turned over to you." There was a slight pause. "He has committed no crime within Neverwinter's walls, so he is free to walk the city as he may."

As Marcus entered the throne room with Sir Grayson, he caught a glimpse of Torio for the first time. The first thing that crossed his mind on seeing the dress she was wearing was that she looked more like a high class whore than an ambassador. Marcus really had to suppress the urge to laugh at that, as it wouldn't do at all.

Nasher then noticed their arrival. "Ah, Sir Grayson... a pleasure to see you," he greeted the knight warmly. _Now the game begins,_ he thought.

"It is my honour to serve, my lord," Grayson said as he bowed, looking just a little concerned for he had his part to play in the game though all knew that Torio would see through it.

"What brings you here? You look troubled," Nasher asked with a frown.

"My lord, it has come to my attention that this man stands accused of murder, and is to be given over to Luskan for trial," Grayson said, indicating Marcus.

"Yes, what you have heard is true, my friend. Is that why you are here?" replied Nasher, concerned.

"Yes, that is why I am here, because this man is my squire, and must be tried by your hand and the will of the gods alone," Sir Grayson said with conviction, for if nothing else about this game the part about Marcus being a squire was true.

"What is this nonsense? This knight has no squire," Torio said, clearly irritated at this unforeseen turn. _I warned you, Garius, that Lord Nasher would not be so easily fooled,_ she thought.

"I would choose your words carefully, ambassador, lest I think you were accusing one of my knights of speaking lies," Nasher replied, with just a hint of smugness. _Ah, the joys of the game,_ he thought.

"I only hear the words of a man shielding a murderer," Torio said angrily, almost losing her temper. _Watch yourself, Torio,_ she told herself_. Don't overdo it._

"Then let the accused speak," Nasher said firmly. _Time for you to play your part, young man. _"What say you, does my knight speak truly? Are you his squire?" he asked the harbourman.

"It is as Sir Grayson says, Lord Nasher. I am his squire, and as Torm as my witness, I swear to serve Neverwinter faithfully and well," Marcus said, stepping forward and bowing. _Hope this works,_ he thought.

"Then it is true," Nasher said with a smile of triumph. "That means this squire will be tried here, ambassador... _not_ within Luskan's walls," he said, sounding smug and firm at the same time. _The game is done and you have lost, Torio._

"There is no justice in this. But I was a fool to expect justice in Neverwinter!" Torio said angrily as she turned and stormed out of the throne room. _You win this round, Lord Nasher!_

"Seeing that gloating smile stripped from her face pleases me more than you will know… But this has bought only a little more time, time we cannot afford to waste. We must find the truth of what happened at Ember, and quickly." Nasher now actually looked at Marcus. "But you cannot do so here. You have my leave to depart Neverwinter, provided you give your word to return for the trial."

The harbourman nodded gravely. "I swear in the presence of Torm that I shall return here for my trial, Lord Nasher." Then he smiled slightly. "And I wouldn't dream of denying the Luskans the court room battle they so obviously desire."

Nasher nodded with a slight smile. "Travel to Port Llast. Someone there can guide you to Ember, then return with whatever you can that will prove your innocence. Keep your resolve, Marcus. I am confident you will expose the truth of this matter soon enough. And after the trial, I will have duties for you."

Marcus hesitated a moment. "There is something you should know, Lord Nasher. Last night, during my vigil in the Solace Glade, Luskan sent assassins against me. They failed, obviously, as I stand here before you."

"WHAT!?" bellowed Nasher. "Are you certain of this? Can you prove it, squire?"

The harbourman shook his head. "No, I can't prove it, unfortunately. It is a suspicion on my part only." He got out the ring he had taken off the assassin leader. "The only evidence I did find was this ring," Marcus said, holding up the ring.

"May I examine that ring, Marcus?" Sand's voice made the harbourman jump as he gave the wizard the ring. "Hmm…. This isn't good," the moon elf said after a while. "I know this ring, as I've seen them before. They are worn by the members of the Circle of Blades. An assassin guild based in Luskan," he said, giving the ring back. "They are also notorious for carrying out some of the Hosttower's dirtier work."

"What in Tyr's name does the Hosttower of Luskan want with the squire that they'd go to such lengths?" This was the first time that Sir Nevalle had spoken.

Marcus sighed heavily. "I think I can answer that, partly at least," he said. "It's not so much me but what I have in my possession that they want. For what reason I couldn't say, but it can't be anything good." He sighed again as he took out one of the shards. "I seem to be collecting these silver shards in my travels of late. I've since learned that they are the remains of a githyanki silver sword. These are what Luskan wants, what Black Garius wants."

Nasher nodded grimly. "Then it is even more imperative that you clear your good name, squire. I will not allow the Hosttower to use you, me or Neverwinter in this way. Make all due haste to Port Llast and uncover the true fate of Ember."

Marcus knew a dismissal when he heard it. He bowed. "As you wish, Lord Nasher." Marcus then turned round, not surprised to see the three people that were waiting for him. Marcus knew Sand was there as were Neeshka and Shandra.

Marcus walked over to them. "Hey, you," he said to Neeshka.

The tiefling smiled "Hey, yourself. So, I'm looking at Neverwinter's newest squire?"

Marcus nodded. "Yes. Do you like what you see?" he asked playfully. Neeshka just smiled. "We better do as Lord Nasher suggests, and get to Port Llast as soon as we can." He looked over at Shandra. "I'm glad to see you're looking well. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks. If it wasn't for you, Neeshka and Elanee…"

"That's why you've got to learn a little self control and to follow instructions," Marcus said gently. "But you're safe, so that's all that really matters. Come on, Port Llast awaits."

"It would be wise to speak to Haeromos in Port Llast. He is said to be a fair man, and vigilant of his people and the lands around. We shall see," Sand said as they walked out of Castle Never.

* * *

"Hey, harbour boy, over there! Is that who I think it is?" Neeshka asked, poking him in the ribs, then nodding toward the approaching figure.

The harbourman looked and smiled. "Yes, Neesh, I believe you're right. That's Serena alright. Is she leaving, I wonder?" Marcus asked himself.

Serena was walking up the road that led to Castle Never and she was in full battle dress. She wore her full plate armour that seemed to subtly reflect the colours of the rainbow as the sunlight reflected off its surface. Strapped to her back was a greatsword and from her weapons belt hung a longsword, shield, a large warhammer and an unusual five-headed flail.

"Ah, there you are, Marcus, dear," Serena said as she came up to the little group. "I've heard of the trouble that Luskan witch Torio has been giving you. I'd like to help out, if I may? I'd like to tag along to Port Llast. Give me something to do for a few days other than sitting around the temple."

Marcus stood stunned for a few moments. "Uh… um… I'd be honoured, Serena. You're more than welcome to come along if you wish."

Serena smiled brilliantly. "Good, that's settled then. But I warn you, I may have to return to Neverwinter suddenly as I'm… expecting someone to arrive any day now," she said as she took a place in the group.

As they walked through Blacklake, Sand leaned forward. "My boy, you have a knack for drawing allies to your side, and in this case, a very powerful one. Serena will be a great help at Ember." The harbourman just blushed at the moon elf's praise.


	4. Port Llast

"Where's Bishop?" Marcus asked as he, Neeshka, Shandra, Sand and Serena all entered the Sunken Flagon.

Duncan turned around. "Don't know, lad, he left a while ago. Never said when he'd be back, but… that's nothing unusual."

Marcus nodded. "Fine, haven't got time to wait for him anyway." He turned to where Casavir, Khelgar and Elanee were seated. "Fancy a trip to Port Llast? We have Nasher's blessing to leave the city."

"About time, lad!" Khelgar said as he stood up. "So, this squire thing worth it?"

"To be honest, Khelgar, I'm not sure. It keeps me out of Luskan's hands, so it's good in that respect. As far as being part of the nobility… that's going to get a bit of getting used to," Marcus said.

"Just so long as I don't have curtsy or anything," Neeshka muttered, wrinkling her nose. "I'm no lady, no matter what you say, harbour boy."

"You listen to me, Neeshka, dear," Serena said as she walked around to face the tiefling. "You may find this hard to believe, but you _are_ a lady. And not just because your boyfriend thinks you are. However, I have to say, speaking from experience that helps a lot." Serena smiled a little at Neeshka's bewildered expression. "You see, I could still go by the title of Lady Serena Delryn, if I so wished, but I haven't used that since well… since my first husband passed on." Serena's green eyes were sad. "I miss him still, sometimes. When I first met Anomen, he was a squire in the Order of the Radiant Heart in Athkatla. He eventually was knighted and when I married him, I gained the title. Something that, I can assure you, took me a while to get used to, given my… background. Anomen was the first man who loved me for _me_, and he treated me like a lady. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, Neeshka?"

The tiefling nodded, a little uncertainly. "I think so, Serena… you're saying that me and the harbour boy is kind of like you and Anomen?"

Serena smiled warmly. "Yes that's exactly what I'm trying to say. Though Anomen did came from a reasonably wealthy family in Athkatla. Apart from that, our stories are surprisingly similar. You and I are, or were outcasts for similar reasons, our blood heritage. However, that does not define who you are, Neeshka. Marcus loves you for _you,_ just as Anomen loved me. Remember that when things get tough and you'll do just fine. Screw what the nobility thinks. You're you and don't change just because they say you should. I never did."

Neeshka gave the priestess a hug, which was no easy thing, considering both were in full armour. "You're the coolest priestess I've ever met. Thanks, Serena."

"You're welcome, Neeshka, dear," Serena said, returning the hug. "You're welcome indeed. Now, hadn't we better be getting to Port Llast, hmm?" she asked.

"You have done far better than I could have to ease her fears, my lady," Casavir said as he came alongside Serena.

Serena cast a glance at the paladin. "You sell yourself short, Casavir. Whether you know it or not, your simple approval of her relationship with Marcus means more to her than anything. You've never once disapproved of them being together. That to Neeshka says more than mere words ever could." Serena smiled slightly at the paladin's embarrassed expression. "You are a paladin of the city of Neverwinter and of Tyr. Neeshka looks up to you, though she'd never admit to that. Just be there for them when they need you, like you did since you met them."

"So what do you think, Neesh?" Marcus asked. "Think you can give this nobility thing a shot after all?" he said, stroking the tiefling's cheek.

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, I didn't expect that about Serena, you know?" Neeshka said as she leaned against the harbourman, enjoying his touch. "Sir Grayson and Lady Aeryn were accepting enough of me hanging around," she said, smiling, as she remembered spending time at the knight's estate.

Marcus chuckled at that. "I think they had some idea just how much you mean to me, Neesh, though I'm not sure how they felt about you teaching their daughter some of your more… interesting tricks," he said, putting his arms round her.

Neeshka grinned. "You mean all those _scandalous_ stories that have been going around about us, harbour boy? The ones which say I've put you under a spell using my demonic powers?" she asked playfully, putting her arms around his neck. "And that girl needed to loosen up, especially after… you know. It was just a little lock picking."

Marcus snorted. "Yeah, right. Just a little lock picking my…" he said with a smile. "But thanks, sweetheart. Sarah might be nothing like Amie as personality goes, but looks… she may as well have been her twin."

"I know, that's why I kept her out of your way the only way I knew how," Neeshka said quietly. She tilted her head to one side. "You know, I'm not sure it's me with the powers in this relationship… I think it's you."

The harbourman looked confused. "Me?" he asked.

"Yeah. I mean, I know you haven't tried or wanted to change me... but I think you have a little anyway… I don't have the urge to steal stuff like I used to do. Ever since Leldon, to be honest. I think you've made me realise there is more to life than nicking things. Thanks, harbour boy," Neeshka said, kissing him deeply.

Marcus just grinned. "As Serena said, I love you for _you_. But I'm glad I've been a good influence on you, sweetheart. I love you, Neesh, but I never wanted to change you," he said, as he looked to the side. "So: everyone ready to leave for Port Llast?"

Casavir had a bemused expression on his face. "I was just about to ask the two of you that very question." The paladin's deep voice rumbled with amusement as he spoke. He'd succeeded in embarrassing the young couple.

* * *

"Ah, and here we are in the illustrious Port Llast. Watch where you step, you might get some of the local culture on your boots," Sand said, looking around.

"Gods, Sand, you hold your nose so high it's a wonder you don't wear your hat on it," Shandra said with a shake of her head.

"I don't even know what that means, my dear, but I'm sure as far as your local expressions go, it's quite quaint and charmingly ignorant," Sand countered.

"Alright, enough, you two. We have to gather information, remember?" Marcus reminded them.

"We should find Haeromos as quickly as we can, he can grant us access to Ember and hopefully we can find some clues there," Sand said with a nod.

"Asking some of the locals couldn't hurt, either. After we speak to Haeromos, of course," Shandra suggested, with a glance at Sand.

"I can do that if you like, Marcus," Serena said. "You'll have your hands full with the First Captain."

"Thanks, Serena, I appreciate your help. Who knows, they may have seen something," Marcus said.

"I'll try to sort through what we find as we discover it, but check with me if you're ever curious about all we've gathered... I'll have a good sense for when we have enough to bring to trial," Sand remarked.

Marcus nodded. "Alright. I'm glad to have you along, Sand."

"The pleasure is all mine... as exceptional as my skills are, it is good to see them put to good use," Sand said.

"You're just sooo modest, Sand," Neeshka said, teasing the moon elf as they walked to the militia barracks while Serena made her way to the Alliance Arms Inn, which would be the best place for her to start.

* * *

"Welcome to the Alliance Arms. I'm Falgor, the innkeeper. What can I help you with?" he asked the tall, armoured woman.

"Hopefully you can," Serena said pleasantly. "Can you tell me anything about what happened at Ember?" she asked as she held a small bag of gold in view of the innkeeper.

Falgor's eyes sparkled as he worked out just how much gold was in the bag the woman held. "I can tell you plenty, but whether any of it's the truth... well, that remains to be seen." Serena just nodded for him to continue. "Take this rumour, for a start. Some folk say it was beasts of the Duskwood that savaged Ember. Revenge for disturbing their nests, or some such. Frankly, I'm inclined that believe that one. Port Llast had a bit of a werewolf problem, not too long ago. Wouldn't surprise me if there's more of 'em hanging about."

"I see. What else?" Serena asked while tossing up the bag and catching it.

"Well… there was this Luskan woman sniffing around, awhile back. According to her, some adventurer strolled into town and slaughtered everyone, just for chuckles." Falgor shook his head. "Nothing but lies come out of Luskan lips, so you can ignore that one. That's just my opinion, though."

Serena's eyes narrowed. "Interesting… Anything else?"

"Then there's Elgun, one of my regulars. He claims he was there, saw the whole thing," the innkeeper said with a laugh. "I wouldn't exactly call him a liar, but he's always talking about his 'adventures,' which conveniently happen when no one else is around. The man can't handle a butter knife, much less a stout blade. The weaponsmith, Haljal tried to teach him a few tricks, but Elgun was hopeless."

"Thank you, Falgor, you've been most helpful indeed," Serena said with a smile as she let the bag of gold drop onto the counter top. "Oh, one more thing: where can I find this Elgun?"

"Head on over to the common room. He's probably telling the story for the hundredth time," Falgor said with a roll of his eyes.

* * *

First Captain Haeromos Dothwintyl sat at his desk, a grave expression on his face. The past few weeks hadn't been pleasant and not just because that vulture Torio had been sulking about in his town, though he was probably the only one who knew who she was. Then there was the massacre at Ember which (worst luck) was in Luskan territory and not his. Still, he was reassured by the presence of the Lord's Alliance troops, stationed in Port Llast. They mainly came from Neverwinter, the town's closest ally as well as Elturel and Baldur's Gate, so that a Luskan attack would risk war with three economically powerful cities. Although, truth to tell, currently Neverwinter was in no shape to wage a war.

Haeromos looked toward the barracks door as it opened and a group that had to be adventurers entered. He looked the group over. Their make up was decidedly strange: three humans, two men and a woman, a male moon elf, a female wood elf, a male dwarf and a female tiefling. It was the bearded human that the tiefling seemed to be holding hands with that made the First Captain lean back in his chair in surprise.

"I must say I'm surprised you have the courage to show your face here. A lot of people here had friends in Ember. If they find out who you are..." he growled in a warning tone.

Marcus was completely thrown by Haeromos' words, as were the rest of his group. "You… know who the harbour boy is? What he's been accused of by that… snake, Torio?" Neeshka asked, her eyes all big.

It was Haeromos' turn to be thrown by the tiefling's words. It was apparent to the First Captain that she cared about her human companion a great deal. He also suspected that this was the case with the rest of the group, the way they clustered around him. It was also clear he was the party's leader.

Haeromos sighed. "Yes young lady. I know who your friend is, sadly." He was quiet for a few moments, considering something. "There was a witness to the attack, a survivor. He was described in great detail."

Everyone in Marcus' group looked stunned, but it was Sand that came to his senses first. "Doesn't it seem remarkably _convenient_ that someone survived the attack on Ember, and not only that, but got close enough to clearly identify my friend here? Surely if that had been the case he'd have noticed them?" the moon elf asked.

Haeromos' eyes narrowed as he recalled what Torio had been saying when she'd been here, not all that long ago, as it happened. The First Captain was beginning to smell a rat, a very large _Luskan_ rat. "You have a point. You can question the witness, but you shall do it in _my_ presence. She's been through a lot, and you may not like what she has to say."

"That seems fair to me," Marcus said. "And it might be a little unpleasant but I think I can put up with that sooner than losing my head."

"Very well, then," Haeromos said, as he looked over to one of his men. "Bring the girl here, would you."

* * *

Serena entered the common room and let her eyes sweep the room. There were a few people that might prove worthwhile to talk to. There was a female half elf seated by the fire, who was likely a ranger, and then there was Elgun. Serena was going to enjoy chatting to him. And lastly, there was a woman who just looked troubled.

Malin looked up from her mug of soup. "You're clearly not from around here. Planning on staying awhile, or just passing through?" she asked "I'm Malin, one of the few rangers that call Port Llast home."

"Actually Malin, dear I'm assisting a friend in investigating the murders in Ember." Serena replied.

"What's to investigate? The village is destroyed, and everyone's dead," Malin said bitterly. "Could have been brigands, or gods know what else... but a lord's justice won't bring those villagers back to life."

"That's sadly true, Malin, but if nothing else, the truth of what happened may come to light," Serena said, her eyes sad.

Malin sighed. "I see your point. Three days gone, I was passing just south of the Duskwood when I spied a column of smoke. I'd say it was coming from the ridge, just above Duskwood Grove. Could have been some traveller stopping for the night, or it could be that someone's made a home for themselves. There's a cave up there, and a good spot for a camp. Either way, the Grove is an hour's walk from Ember... maybe less," the ranger said. "Whoever's up there may have seen what happened in the village. Just watch your back. The Grove's not known for being friendly to strangers, it's gone strange of late. Used to be deer there, and plentiful hunting. Now something's driven all the deer away. Nothing but ferocious beasts and stranger things for miles around the Grove. If somebody's made a home on that ridge... well, could be they're just crazy. You'd better hope it's as simple as that."

"Thanks for the information, dear. Enjoy the fire," Serena said, as she walked on.

* * *

"Alaine?" Shandra asked "You survived... thank the gods!"

"Oh, Shandra! It was horrible! They butchered everyone!" Alaine said, close to weeping again.

"Alaine, it's all right... shhhh. Look, I've brought people to help," Shandra said soothingly. "We'll get to the bottom of this…"

Alaine's grew wide on seeing the harbourman. "You!" she cried, shocked. "Shandra, it's… it's _him_. Why would you bring him here?" she asked, perplexed.

"I'm not responsible for what happened at Ember, Alaine," Marcus stated quietly.

"I saw you murder those people," Alaine said coldly.

"No, Alaine, it's not true…" Shandra said, trying to calm her friend

"I know what I saw. They had no weapons... some even surrendered, but he... he..." Alaine stuttered.

Neeshka's eyes blazed red with anger. She couldn't take this any longer. She leapt forward toward Alaine, or would have, if a pair of strong arms hadn't encircled her waist.

"How can you stand there and say that, you ungrateful… the harbour boy saved your village from the gith! Saved the farm girl!" the tiefling yelled. "Now you're working for that Luskan whore Torio? I don't believe you! Should have let the gith gut the lot of you!" she said, outraged and upset.

Alaine stood in shocked silence. Even Haeromos wasn't sure of what to make of the tiefling's outburst.

"Shhh, calm down, Neesh, sweetheart, this isn't helping, you know," Marcus said as he pulled her into a hug and held her close, stroking her hair.

"I… I know, Cole, sorry," Neeshka murmured as she buried her head in his shoulder. "Just seems so unfair… all this."

"I know, sweetheart… that's why we're here to try and figure out what Luskan is up to." The harbourman looked over to Sand. "I think you better take over for the time being, Sand. I'll be over there in the corner, with Neeshka, if you need me."

The moon elf nodded. "That's probably for the best, Marcus. You take care of your lady." Sand clapped his hands. "And I'll take care of the legal matters."

The harbourman smiled his thanks, led the distressed tiefling to a quiet corner and sat down, drawing her on to his lap.

Haeromos sighed heavily. "Would someone please explain to me what in the name of all that's holy is going on here?" he asked, rubbing his forehead.

Sand turned to face the First Captain "This could take awhile," the moon elf said cautiously.

* * *

"You're not from around here, are you, dear?" Serena asked as she approached a woman who looked troubled.

The woman turned slightly, not really seeing Serena. "Many pardons, but I have a lot on my mind..." she said in an accent that the priestess hadn't thought to hear this far north.

"Well now, I haven't heard an Amnish accent in many years, and certainly not this far north," Serena said, truly surprised.

The woman focused a little on the tall armoured woman before her. "You are correct. I am from Amn. How did you know?"

Serena smiled. "I lived in Athkatla for a time. Now… what's bothering you, dear?"

The woman sighed. "My partner, Bradbury... he is two days late for our meeting. He is a _northerner_ and a fool. But... he is good with pick and wedge and has brought much silver to my house. I was planning on taking him to Amn with me, but he heard tell of valuable ore in Duskwood."

Serena chuckled a little. "Ah, spoken like a true Amnish, artisan and master trader, I see. Well I do have some friends that may be investigating the Duskwood in the near future. What does this partner of your look like?"

The woman smiled, a little hopefully. "Bradbury? He is hard to miss, his hair is bright orange, like flameblooms in the desert. If your friends happen to see him, just tell him that Calindra still waits for him," she said.

"I shall pass the message on. I'm sure they'll find him, Calindra, don't fret, dear," Serena then turned to walk away.

"My lady, might I know your name?" Calindra asked.

Serena looked back over her shoulder and smiled a little. "Serena Darkstar or you may know me better as Lady Serena Delryn, at your service." The priestess was rewarded by Calindra's eyes going wide with recognition.

* * *

Haeromos leaned back in his chair, deep in thought, after Sand had finished explaining everything, as he knew it. The First Captain looked over to the corner and studied the harbourman who was still trying to calm his tiefling lover. _Could this man be capable of mass murder?_ Haeromos asked himself. _Somehow, I__'__m inclined to doubt that at this point, _he thought. _After all, Black Garius and Torio Claven are involved in this mess._

Haeromos let out a sigh and faced Alaine. "This may be hard for all concerned, Alaine, but try and answer Sand's questions as best as you can. We may yet find the truth of what happened at Ember, Luskan territory be damned."

Alaine nodded numbly, for she was still looking to where Marcus and Neeshka were seated. She thought she must have been losing her mind. Had she seen this man kill the people of her home village? Was it even possible? For now, here he was less than twenty feet away being caring and loving. Alaine just didn't know anymore.

"You must forgive Neeshka, Alaine," Casavir spoke as he stepped forward and bowed. "As you can see, she and Marcus are very close and the stress of the accusations against him have taken a toll on the young woman. We only wish to find the truth, to find out who really slaughtered Ember."

"Indeed, we are here to help you, not to hurt you, Alaine," Elanee said as she took a step forward. "Nature will have its say, I assure you."

Shandra smiled warmly at her old friend. "See, Alaine? We're here to help, all right?" she indicated the paladin. "And you can trust Casavir; he's a paladin of Tyr."

Alaine nodded as she steadied herself. "It was trade season, and the shipments into Ember had fallen off... I decided to trade along the South Roads…" She became quiet, as she recalled a horrible memory. "When I came back to Ember, I heard the screams and saw the smoke. I left my wagon and went into town. That's when I saw the bodies..." Alaine looked over to where Marcus as still seated with Neeshka. "I saw him kill the quartermaster while he was on his knees, begging for his life."

Sand raised his eyebrows as he pointed to the harbourman. "You saw that man, there, do the killing blow? And was it just him? And where did he..."

"Sand!" Shandra hissed, dismayed by the moon elf's coldness.

The moon elf rolled his eyes. "We don't have all year, girl, nor do I have the patience when the trail of these killers grows colder," Sand replied, irritated.

Alaine nodded slowly. "There were others, but I didn't see them closely. I ran as hard as I could to Port Llast and they took me in. But he did do it," she stated coldly.

"Wait a moment," Elanee said, a frown marring her delicate elven features. "How did you manage to get away if you got close enough to identify Marcus, Alaine?"

The woman blinked as she'd never really thought about it before. "I... don't know. I just started running. I guess they didn't notice me," she said with a shrug.

"You were lucky, hmm? Or perhaps, they_ let _you escape?" Sand said in a slightly mocking tone. "It could have been someone that_ looked_ the part, you know. There are _many_ magics that can cloak one's appearance... even allow one to change shape."

"I know what I saw," Alaine said firmly.

"Don't you think it's a possibility that it was someone else, disguised as our leader, Alaine?" Casavir asked.

"I... suppose it's possible, but... I don't know. I just don't know," Alaine said with a shake of her head.

"Well, I think you for considering it, at least, Alaine," the paladin said.

"You're... welcome. Is there anything else you need from me?" she asked, truly surprised that they were being so nice, even given Shandra's assurances.

"Who else was there besides Marcus? Were any of us there?" Sand asked thoughtfully.

"He had about a dozen of his friends with him... but, I don't recognize anyone with him now."

"A dozen, you say? Interesting. Do go on," Sand prompted, rubbing his hands together with glee.

"So you didn't see myself? Khelgar or Neeshka?" Elanee asked.

Alaine blinked. "Well... no. I believe they were all human."

Sand started tapping his chin. "Hmm… well, considering that those two... and your good self, Elanee... account for at least half of us, that might seed some doubt."

"But… he could just have hired others," Alaine said lamely.

Sand smiled with triumph. "Yes, my dear... but as your hesitation suggests, why would anyone do that, when they have trusted allies who would follow one almost anywhere?" the moon elf asked.

"That's all we needed to know. Thank you for your help, Alaine. I know it was hard on you," Casavir said as he bowed.

"I'm sorry to have put you through this, Alaine. Guard, please see that she reaches her quarters safely," Haeromos said ending the interview.

* * *

Serena walked up while Elgun was in the middle of his story. "...I had just lined up my arrow on the deer when I heard a growl. I turned, and there was the biggest, blackest wolf I'd ever seen… coming right at me! Lucky for me, I had my enchanted dagger with me. With its jaws only inches away from my throat, I lunged, and with a quick twist of the blade, I cut out the beast's heart!" Serena rolled her eyes. This man was an utter idiot, but the patrons seemed to lap it up all the same, which was very disheartening. "I was a bit tired after all this fun in the Duskwood, so I decided to head to Ember to rest up… That's when I smelled the smoke. I ran there as quickly as I could, and what did I see? The village in flames, the defenceless people being slaughtered by cruel and evil men. There were dozens of attackers, heavily armed, aided by foul creatures… demons, I think."

At this, Serena let out a most undignified snort. "Torm save me, you make me sick, Elgun, and give proper adventurers a bad name."

Elgun turned to face the tall armoured woman. He had to look up, as she was a good foot and a half, taller than he was. "What? You think I'm lying about what happened at Ember?" he asked, incredulous.

Serena leaned forward a little to emphasise their height difference. "Oh, I don't _think_ you're lying, I _know_ you're lying," she said. Elgun was going to reply but the priestess cut him off with a glare. "Don't you _dare_ interrupt me," Serena growled. "There's no way you could have been hunting deer in the Duskwood, as the ranger Malin…" Serena nodded in the woman's direction "…says there haven't been any for some time, only dire creatures. Add to that, Falgor tells me you can't even handle a butter knife, much less a proper weapon." So saying Serena unsheathed her greatsword one handed and brought its blade down within inches of Elgun's face. All the terrified man saw was a softly glowing blur as it passed in front his eyes, before Serena sheathed her greatsword once again. "Lies serve no one. You _are_ harming others by the tales you're telling, Elgun, not to mention that_ everyone_ thinks you're a witness. If Ember's attackers _should_ hear about you..." Serena let the sentence hang, a cold smile on her face.

Elgun looked at Serena a moment… and just fainted. Serena turned away, knowing he wouldn't prove any further hindrance to Marcus.

* * *

"You alright now, Neesh?" Marcus asked as Alaine was escorted back to her room.

The tiefling nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Thanks, harbour boy. I just lost it. Stressed out, I guess."

"Come on then, looks like Sand and the others are done. I want to ask Haeromos a few things before we go," he said as Neeshka got off his lap and he stood up.

They walked hand in hand back to where Sand and the others were waiting, as was the First Captain.

"Luskan is a threat to Port Llast, isn't it?" Marcus asked thoughtfully.

"Of course it is," Haeromos said. "The Luskans would lay claim to our harbour for their warships. Having secured such a prominent location, they could mount a swift attack on Neverwinter or Waterdeep, for that matter." The man snorted. "They talk of a peaceful coexistence, but I know their words to be false. Luskan's... difficulties with Ruathym may have come at a fortunate time. As long as Luskan is at war with their island neighbour, they cannot turn their attention elsewhere. But that is also why there are Lord's Alliance troops stationed here. Luskan would dare not attack my town directly, risking a war with the Alliance."

Marcus just nodded. "What do you know of Black Garius?" he asked next.

"A Luskan archmage of some power. Not someone you want to cross, but it seems that you already have," Haeromos said with an ironic smile. "Like many of the Arcane Brotherhood, Black Garius aspires to rule, regardless of what harm it may cause."

"I think you will find that attitude common among most of the Hosttower... and Garius in particular," Sand observed.

"What worries me is that he may succeed." Haeromos said with a frown as he looked at the harbourman. "He's amassing power at a pace I dislike. I suspect his brothers are beginning to grow wary of him. Followers flock to his side like vultures to a battlefield. Two in particular keep me awake at night, that _woman_ Torio Claven and that giant of a man Lorne."

"Ah, and so the pretty little circle reveals itself," Sand said with a sigh not at all surprised.

"Torio you know as Luskan's ambassador to Neverwinter. A treacherous snake that one. The other one, Lorne, lacks Torio's guile, but compensates for it with brute force. He's a savage fighter, and extremely good with a blade. I suspect he handles most of Garius's dirty work," Haeromos said.

Marcus nodded. "Thank you, Haeromos, for everything," he said and he extended his hand to the First Captain.

Haeromos was clearly surprised by the gesture but took the harbourman's hand and shook it. "You're welcome. And rest assured, I'll be at your trial in Neverwinter. I'll be escorting Alaine, one way or another. I'll not let that witch Torio get her hooks into the poor woman."

* * *

"Listen to me Marcus... if we can get Alaine to work for us, her story of tears will sway the court in our favour," Sand said as they were walking out of the barracks.

"Alaine's not some tool, Sand... she's just survived the massacre of her town... which someone caused to get to _us_," Shandra said, annoyed.

The moon elf turned sharply to face Shandra. "Girl, if we do not use your friend, the Luskans will. And they will use her testimony to kill our friend, here. So... please, dispense with your convenient morality. Either _we_ use her, or _they_ do."

Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but it seemed as if Casavir had read the harbourman's mind as he spoke. "Sand, Shandra is right, but there may be another way to foil Torio. We have planted doubt in her mind and Haeromos said he would be there at the trial. Imagine that Torio has Alaine give her testimonies and then we mention our conversation with her here? Haeromos will be present to back our claims up. Torio will look like a fool."

Sand smiled as he thought about it. "Risky… but it will prove far more satisfying." He looked at Casavir. "For a paladin, you're being very devious."

* * *

"There you are," Serena said as they left the militia barracks "Took longer than you expected, hmm?"

Marcus nodded, though he was a little distracted. "Yeah, something like that, Serena," he said.

The priestess frowned. "What's the matter, Marcus, dear?" Serena asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's a name that Haeromos mentioned that's bothering me," Marcus said with a sigh. "He said the name Lorne in connection to Black Garius. The only person I know of that name is Retta's missing son and from what I can vaguely recall of him, he'd be a large man these days. It's… I've just got a bad feeling about it is all," the harbourman said with a shake of his head. "But enough of that. How did you get on, Serena?"

Serena smiled and let the matter rest. "Very well, I met a ranger named Malin who said there has been strange goings on in the Duskwood, and connected to that a woman named Calindra told me her business partner Bradbury has gone missing there. He shouldn't be that hard to track down as he has distinctive orange hair." Serena paused a moment. "Also, there was some right idiot telling tall tales, but I put the fear of Torm in him so he shouldn't be a problem."

"Thanks, Serena, for your help. Well, I suppose we better get going to Ember… that's not going to be very pleasant," Marcus grimaced.

Serena smiled as she fell in step beside Neeshka and Marcus. "Just as well I saw Nya the herbalist, then isn't it?" she said. "She gave me some wyrmsage. Should come in handy."

Neeshka furrowed her brows, thinking. "Wyrmsage? Isn't that a reagent for preventing undeath?" she asked.

Serena nodded. "You're right, Neeshka, dear, that's what it's used for." The priestess sighed heavily "We all know what happened in Ember and if the bodies aren't tended, they'll return as undead. It is only a matter of time, sadly. Nya hasn't been to Ember since the massacre. But she's heard that the bodies are rotting where they fell," Serena said, disgusted. If it was one thing she hated with a passion, it was the undead.

"We'll set it right, won't we, Serena?" Neeshka asked hopefully.

Serena nodded and ruffled the tiefling's hair. "Of course we will, Imoen. We always do," she said. Clearly Serena was thinking of something else.

"Who's Imoen?" Neeshka asked softly.

"Did I just call you Imoen?" the priestess asked. Neeshka just nodded. "You remind me of Immy, Neeshka. She knows how to pick other people's pockets and pick locks; Immy is also a very accomplished mage. I'm sure the two of you would get on very well." As they walked Serena, begin to tell them of her past. "Imoen is kind of my kid sister. We were raised together in a fortress library called Candlekeep..."


	5. Ember and the Duskwood

"Torm, watch over us," Marcus murmured as he and the rest of his party entered what remained of the small village of Ember. Being told a village no longer existed was one thing, to see it was another. The harbourman wanted to look away, but found he couldn't.

Looking round at the dozen or so houses that had made up the village, he saw that all had been put to the torch. Not a single building remained standing intact. The most disturbing thing, however, were the bodies of the villagers. All one hundred and fifty of them, Marcus estimated, lay where they had fallen. Some of the men had tried to protect the women, and, in turn, the women had desperately tried to protect the children. In the end, it had made no difference, as everyone lay dead. Marcus felt sick to the pit of his stomach at the thought that anyone could do such a terrible thing.

But the proof was in front of his eyes.

What was even more sickening was that whoever had done it had _enjoyed_ doing it. That thought made the harbourman feel _very_ ill. Then there was the _smell_, which even at this range made him want to gag. The stench of decomposing flesh was heavy in the air. Mercifully, it was getting dark, so they'd have some respite from the smell with nightfall. Their grim task thus would just be a little less unpleasant.

Khelgar looked round, horrified, at the massacred villagers. "By the Gods... these villagers, they were cut down like dogs… Look at the people... none of them have weapons in their hands... there wasn't even a fight," he said, becoming quieter and angrier as he spoke.

"That's because there was no _battle_ here, Khelgar only _slaughter_," Casavir said angrily, as he invoked the blessing of Tyr on the party for the grisly work that they were about to do.

"I've seen dead bodies before… but not like _this_," Neeshka whispered, "This place… it makes my horns twitch," she said as she shivered.

"It... can't be," Shandra whispered, as she looked round in disbelief. "I was just travelling through here last season..." she said, pointing to one of the houses. "There... there was the quartermaster's house... and Alaine's home... By the Gods, who could have _done_ this... these villagers, none of them were soldiers... it would have been a massacre."

"That's why we're here, dear," Serena said softly. "To find out who _really_ did this and to lay the dead to their eternal rest." Outwardly, the priestess was calm and collected, as she was no stranger to death or violence but inside, her blood boiled at the sight of the savagery of the attack.

Sand surveyed the scene with a clinical eye, looking for clues. He wasn't unaffected by what he saw but he did have several centuries of hiding his emotions to fall back on. _It seems the Hosttower has plunged to new depths in barbarity__…__ or rather Black Garius has, _the moon elf thought as he looked over at Shandra. "My dear... it _was_ a massacre. Come, let us see what we can find," he said softly but firmly, taking the farm girl by the hand.

* * *

"Haeromos, I'm not going crazy, am I?" Alaine asked as the First Captain brought her the evening meal. "I mean, I did see the man who I _thought _had attacked my village being caring and attentive, trying to calm down his girlfriend… the _tiefling_?" she asked, bewildered.

Haeromos sank into an empty chair. "No Alaine, you're not going crazy or anything of the sort, though I'm sure it must feel that way," he said. "You did indeed see that, as did I." Haeromos was quiet for a moment or two. "I do not think that the man we saw here today would be capable of what happened at Ember. However, someone wants us to believe so. There is more going on here than we know, Alaine." The first captain sighed. "Try not to think about it too much. Have your dinner and try and rest." Haeromos stood to leave the woman in peace. "I'll not be far if you need me."

* * *

"Are you alright, harbour boy?" Neeshka asked, concern etched on her face for the man next to her, who was currently bent over, being sick.

After one last coughing fit, Marcus straightened. "Yeah, I am, I think, now that I've lost my lunch," he said, looking to where Sand was, bent over a corpse. "I don't know how he can stand the smell; it got too much for me."

"Now that you've finished with the theatrics, come and have a look at this, would you?" the wizard asked, not missing a beat.

Marcus just rolled his eyes. "What have you found, Sand?" he asked.

"This body, here," Sand said, pointing to the corpse he was examining, "is unusually discoloured, much different from the usual decay…"

"You've got better eyes than me, Sand," Marcus said. "But what does it mean?"

"Just doing my job, dear boy. The sooner I put together these pieces, the sooner I... hmmm," the moon elf replied, not really listening. "Ah… these wounds are superficial, not deep enough to kill," Sand murmured with a frown. "And the scent, coupled with the discolouration of the skin here and here..." The wizard turned to face his two apprentices. "This man died from poison, and an unusual one at that. You won't find it in any of the apothecaries or potion shops in Neverwinter. But it is a local favourite among several of the less friendly assassins' guilds in Luskan."

Neeshka wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Uh… just between you and me, Sand, I don't really want to know how you_ knew_ that."

The moon elf smiled, a little sadly. "Trust me, dear girl. I've seen a lot of death over the centuries, unfortunately." He turned back to the corpse. "Let me take a sample from the body... I think it will serve as a valuable piece of evidence."

* * *

"This reminds me too much of Saradush," Serena remarked. She and Casavir had to carry out the unpleasant but necessary task of giving the dead the final blessing to assure they'd rest in peace despite the horrid way they had died.

Casavir looked over at the priestess who seemed to be trying not to burst out into tears. "Saradush?" the paladin inquired.

Serena stood, paused a moment, then turned to face Casavir, a grim expression on her face. "Yes, Saradush. It was one of the cities in Tethyr. It was totally destroyed some years ago in a war of sorts. Something that did not concern Saradush… or Tethyr, come to that. Like many cities and towns back then, they were caught up in dark times, in a war that few understood and even less could do anything to stop." The priestess' eyes were glazed and unfocused as she spoke. "The truly sad thing is that I _still _feel partly responsible for the city's destruction, even though I know I couldn't have done anything to prevent it." Serena let out a heavy sigh as her eyes focused on the paladin. "And you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you, Casavir?"

The paladin regretfully shook his head. "Truthfully, I do not, Serena," Casavir said. "But it must be something terrible to cause you such pain after all these years."

"Be thankful you don't, Casavir. It's my burden to bear anyway. I'm the last, thank the gods, and once I pass from this world, the shadow of Bhaal's dark legacy will no longer be a threat to anyone," Serena said. All Serena wanted was peace. She, however, knew she'd never truly have that, until the day her mortal body expired. Ironic, considering she'd had the chance, twice in fact, to become a goddess. Once after defeating Melissan at the foot of the throne of Bhaal, and again after banishing the duke of the eighth hell, Mephistopheles back to where he belonged.

"You're a… Bhaalspawn?" Casavir asked in disbelief, as his eyes went wide with surprise.

"Yes, and apart from you, the only other two who know are Marcus and Neeshka," Serena said with a sad smile. "I long ago learned to keep my origins under wraps as much as I could. Even now, some people just cannot trust me." She turned back to the bodies, as they still had a job to do. "Come, let's finish this task, and I might tell you more, if you like."

Casavir nodded. "If you're willing to talk, then I'm willing listen, Serena." He looked at the priestess a moment or two. "You could use an ear."

Serena grinned a little. "There's some truth to that, I think, Casavir, as Valen is often away and I've always been able to rant on to him about it."

* * *

Khelgar helped Shandra out of the long mass grave they, along with Elanee, had just finished digging. It would have been better if they could have done individual graves, but time and necessity wasn't on their side.

"Well that's done now, lass," the dwarf said. "And we've had the easiest of the tasks so far."

Shandra nodded as she wiped her brow. "I know, Khelgar, but it still makes me angry we're doing this at all."

"Aye lass…" Khelgar trailed off as he looked toward where the village well stood. Strangely it was the only thing left standing intact. It bore no signs of the fire that had consumed the other houses. "Did you hear that? Sounded as though it came from the well."

"Could be a survivor, or…" Shandra trailed off, uneasy.

The dwarf grinned. "Just as well you've got me here then, eh? Khelgar Ironfist will keep you safe never you fear, lass," he said cheerily as he headed for the well. "Come on, let's see what we find. Either way, Marcus will want to know."

Shandra just shook her head at the dwarf as she followed. "How did I end up with this bunch of loonies anyway?" she asked herself.

"Without the 'loonies' as you call us, you may not be here, Shandra," Elanee said with some amusement as she walked alongside the farm girl, who blushed. She'd forgotten about the wood elf again. Elanee had been unusually quiet ever since they'd gotten to Ember.

* * *

"Hmm… most interesting," Sand mused as he, Marcus and Neeshka walked to the well to await the others. "I'm going to _enjoy_ seeing Torio explaining why the grain shipments from Luskan seemed to have trailed off over the past month… Almost as if _someone_ knew that the grain wouldn't be needed," the wizard said as he flipped through the quartermaster's ledger. It was a little burned but mostly intact and readable.

"How in the hells can you read that, Sand?" Neeshka asked as she looked over the moon elf's shoulder. "It looks like gibberish to me."

Sand looked back at the tiefling with a mix of affection and slight annoyance. "My dear girl, you forget I run a magic shop back in Neverwinter. _This _here," he tapped the quartermaster's ledger, "is simplicity compared to the bookkeeping I have to do. Once you know the principles, it isn't that hard to work it out."

Marcus chuckled. "He's right, Neesh. Even I can work out that ledger. Picked up some bookkeeping skills when I travelled with Daeghun when he escorted merchants along the trade way. Usually the run was between Neverwinter and Waterdeep, got to Daggerford a few times and we even made it once all the way down to Baldur's Gate. That, I think, was the farthest south I've ever been," the harbourman said, a slight smile on his face. He'd enjoyed those trips with Daeghun and Marcus suspected that the elf had as well, but Daeghun wouldn't openly show it, however.

Both Sand and Neeshka looked visibly impressed. "My, my. Aren't we well travelled. And here I thought you'd spent all your time in that little swamp village," the moon elf said, with his usual sarcasm.

"Jealous of the harbour boy, are you, Sand?" Neeshka asked, her eyes sparkling. "Can't say I blame you. I've never really been out of Neverwinter."

Marcus just rolled his eyes and smiled then he noticed Serena and Casavir arrive. Serena tilted her head slightly in Casavir's direction and mouthed 'he knows'. The harbourman just nodded his understanding.

"Where are Elanee, Khelgar and Shandra?" asked Casavir as he looked round.

"Down here!" came a gruff dwarven voice from the well. "And you won't believe who we've found. Our leader's name sake."

"What do you mean, Khelgar?" Marcus asked as he peered over the edge of the well to see the dwarf climbing up the rope with the strange boy they'd met the first time they'd been through Ember holding on for dear life.

"The lad and you share the same name; Marcus," Khelgar said as he reached the top. The boy jumped off and clambered out of the well with Khelgar following. The harbourman and the dwarf then helped the ladies out of the well.

"I knew I'd see you again, and you're finally here," the boy said as he looked round the assembled group.

"Are you all right?" Marcus asked, still trying to get used to the fact that he and the strange boy shared the same name.

"I'm hungry, but I'm okay," the boy said.

"So… It all happened like you said," Neeshka said softly.

The boy nodded sadly. "Yes. Men came. When I saw them, I knew they were the ones who would kill everyone. There was no place for me to hide except in the well... I watched them kill all the people. I... didn't want to, but it felt important for me to see what happened, so I could tell you," he said, looking at the harbourman.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. Who did this, dear?" Serena asked.

"There were twelve of them, I think," the boy said with a frown. "They had dark armour, and... one of them looked like him," the boy said, pointing to Marcus, then he smiled. "But I knew he wasn't, though."

"And how did you know that?" Sand asked intently.

"When I really focused on him, he started to look different. I saw a man who was big and mean, like an ogre, but bald," the boy said.

The wizard started to tap his chin in thought. "Hmmm. This testimony could prove useful... we should take him with us back to Neverwinter when we're done here," Sand said.

"You've been down there all this time?" Marcus asked.

"Yes," the boy admitted. "I knew you would be coming here, so I waited," he said with a shrug.

Serena stepped forward. "I'll take you to Port Llast, dear. You'll be safe there," she said to the boy. "I should really be getting back to Neverwinter. The person I'm expecting should arrive soon, and I better be there when he does," she said as her eyes shone.

Neeshka smiled knowingly at the priestess. "This would be the mysterious Valen Shadowbreath, huh?"

Serena grinned, a bit embarrassed. "Am I really that obvious?" she asked.

"Yeah, afraid so. You're almost as bad as the harbour boy, when he gets that look in his eyes."

"I do not!" Marcus protested loudly.

"Oh yes, you do, lad!" Khelgar roared with a hearty chuckle.

Casavir smiled a little. "Khelgar is right, my friend, you do go all glassy eyed when you talk about and sometimes look at Neeshka." Both Elanee and Shandra were smirking also.

"I still say I don't," Marcus grumbled good naturedly. For her part Neeshka just smiled innocently. The harbourman turned to Serena. "Well then, this is goodbye for now?" he asked.

Serena nodded. "Yes Marcus, dear, you don't really need me anymore. But if you need me for the trial, I'd be happy to testify for you," she said, giving the harbourman a hug goodbye.

"I'll wait for you at the Alliance Arms Inn. Falgor always has some extra food, and places at his hearth," the boy said as he got ready to leave with Serena. "Oh, I almost forgot. Here's the knife you gave me. It helped me survive down there, but I won't need it anymore," he said handing Marcus Bishop's skinning knife.

As they watched Serena and the boy leave Ember, Marcus let out a sigh. "Come on, we've still got work to do. Then it's onto the Duskwood."

* * *

"What's the matter, Elanee?" Marcus asked. He'd fallen back to where the druid was in the formation as she'd been unusually silent ever since they'd arrived in Ember and it was beginning to bother the harbourman.

"Nothing's the matter," Elanee replied, calmly.

"Elanee, that's rubbish, now come on, what's wrong? You've been quiet since Ember," Marcus prodded gently.

The druid sighed. "As you wish. Seeing Ember, it reminded me too much of what had happened when the orcs attacked. Even though I was only very young at the time I can still recall the scent of death and decay." Elanee shook her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be burdening you with this."

Marcus shook his head. "You're not a burden, okay, Elanee? Do you want to talk about it some more when we stop, say, in Port Llast on our way back to Neverwinter?" he asked.

"Yes I'd like that, thank you," Elanee said with a weak smile, then her expression became pained as they entered the Duskwood. Marcus looked at her worriedly. "Something about this forest... I can't hear the trees, their voices are strange," the druid said with a frown as she looked round. "There's something wrong with them. It's some kind of poison, running up through their roots."

"I'm feeling a little odd, too… a little sluggish," Marcus noted with a frown.

"I was going to warn you... but our druidic adherent has already mentioned it," Sand said as he and the others formed a small group round Elanee and Marcus. "The Duskwood trees that surround us act as a damper on magical energies. My considerable talents may be reduced while I am here." The moon elf tapped his chin, thinking over what he'd heard Elanee say. "So it affects druids as well? How odd. I suppose that means the properties of the Duskwood are not natural... fascinating," Sand murmured.

"I feel bloated and slow, like I've eaten way too much," Neeshka said, holding a hand over her stomach.

"Yes, that lethargy you feel... it's coming from the wood. We should be on our guard, and we may wish to rely on physical force and keep our spells in reserve while we are here," Sand advised.

"All right, thanks for the warning… we can adjust our tactics," Marcus said, and then he grinned. "Just as well that Neeshka and I taught you some swordplay, huh, Sand?" he said, nodding at the wizard's belt from which hung a longsword.

"Yes, well…I am afraid it won't be as spectacular as my spellcasting," Sand said, a little embarrassed. "However, it's a pleasure to help. To be honest, this little jaunt is turning out far more interesting than I'd hoped. I might even thank Nevalle if this keeps up."

Neeshka giggled. "Yeah, right. Perish the thought that you'd actually thank Him of the Perfect Hair, Sand." Everyone had a good laugh at the blond knight's expense.

Still smiling, Marcus turned back to Elanee. "Poison? What do you mean by that? Are you going to be all right?" he asked, concerned. "Maybe while we're here we can get to the source of this poison and try to heal this place?"

"Yes... the poison… it's like a brightness... seeping from the ground into their branches. I should be all right, but I am grateful for your concern," Elanee said gratefully. "I am curious, just as Sand is, as to what is causing this, though. That would be my wish, too, if possible… I am glad we share the same view on this."

"Seems to me that it's just as well we've got some proper fighters in this party," Khelgar observed as he looked at Casavir and Shandra with a smile. "I, for one, feel just fine."

Sand rolled his eyes. "Are you done, Khelgar?" he asked. "If so, the Duskwood awaits," the moon elf said with a flourish.

* * *

"I've never seen Elgun so quiet! Walked right up to me and admitted that his Ember story was a lie. Now the silly fool's off sulking," Falgor said with a shake of his head as Serena walked up to him with the boy, Marcus, in tow.

"Serves him right for saying such things," Serena said, annoyed by the folly of the man. "I have little time for such people. Telling stories is all well and good but what he was doing was beyond stupid. Elgun really was playing with a loaded crossbow and Torm knows where the bolt would have ended up if it had gone off."

Falgor sighed. "I guess you're right, Serena. Anyway, what can I do for you?"

The priestess smiled. "I'd like you to look after the boy, Marcus here," Serena said as Marcus waved at Falgor. "He's been through a lot the past while."

"That won't be a problem. I can do that," Falgor said with a smile of his own.

"Good. I better go see the First Captain, as he'd better know about the boy," Serena said as she turned and left the inn.

* * *

"Ugh, I knew there was something wrong with those two gnomes but gnomish werewolves?" Neeshka asked, wrinkling her nose as they walked toward a large tree that stood near the centre of a grove of trees.

"Yes, talk about unexpected," Marcus said. "Still, we found poor Bradbury, so we'll have something to tell Calindra when we get back to Port Llast."

"Uh… what about the gnomes' insect collection?" Shandra asked uncertainly.

Marcus gave a shrug. "Good question, maybe someone in Neverwinter will want it?"

Lyssa looked truly surprised: what was the Luskan idiot doing back here? "Lorne! Why haven't you held up your end of the bargain...?" The dryad's eyes narrowed. "No, wait a moment... there's something different about you..." Lyssa smiled evilly as she looked at Marcus and his party. "Oh, I see. You're the one I disguised him as, then. Trying to prove your innocence, I assume?" she asked.

"Yes, as it happens. How did you disguise Lorne?" Marcus asked, trying to keep his anger in check, and failing badly.

"Alteration powder, a gift from a former guest. It allows you to appear as whomever you wish, for a time," Lyssa said. "Lorne and his men stopped nearby before heading on to the village. From my tree, I spied on their conversation." She rolled her eyes. "The fool was simply going to rush in and kill everyone, and yet somehow blame you. I appeared and offered my help in the matter."

"You helped him? Why would you, a dryad, do this?" Elanee asked in disgust.

"Look around you. Can you not see the stumps of the Duskwood trees?" Lyssa asked, offended. "The villagers ignored me and harvested the trees again and again, taking far more than necessary. It was an opportunity for vengeance. I offered to disguise Lorne and his men, if they would bring me the Glowstone that lies beneath this glade. He agreed." She rolled her eyes, muttering to herself. "But I was a fool to trust him."

"See if you can get the powder from her. Her story's enlightening, but not the evidence that powder could be," Sand whispered.

"Do you have more of this powder?" Marcus asked, fighting to keep calm. "Could I have it, please?" He tried to be polite despite the fact he'd have rather beaten the dryad senseless.

Lyssa smiled smugly. "And why would I give it to you? What's in it for me?" She wasn't prepared for the harbourman's response.

Marcus smiled coldly. "Your life." he said, drawing his longsword. He advanced on the dryad. "Give it to us or I'll destroy you. You're as responsible for those murders as Lorne, and you don't deserve to live."

Lyssa was shocked. "You dare threaten me in my grove, my home?" she asked, then lifted her arms. "Creatures of the Grove, aid me!" she shrieked.

"I think not," Elanee said calmly, stepping forward.

"What..." Lyssa looked at the elf woman with narrowed eyes.

"You are alone. Even the creatures of this grove, as twisted as you have helped them become, will not turn on me," Elanee said with a smug smile. "So... if you will face us, then you will do so. Alone."

"Aieeeee!" Lyssa cried as she charged the harbourman.

It really wasn't much of a fight, for Lyssa wasn't thinking clearly. Throwing herself at an adventuring party that numbered seven was proof of that. The dryad soon lay dead.

"Hmmm. The powder by itself won't be enough... there are many magics that can change appearance. Still, the powder, combined with other clues, can only help our case," Sand said as he placed the bag of powder into his satchel.

"Do you think we've got enough evidence, Sand?" Neeshka asked quietly.

The wizard tapped his chin. "I'm not certain. We may have enough but… there are some things that I think Luskan may have expected us to find. We need to keep searching for as much evidence as we can gather." Sand smiled. "I suspect Luskan has not covered their tracks well. And nothing would please me more than being proven right."

"That well back in Ember seemed to lead to a cave system, and didn't that deranged dryad say something about a Glowstone?" Shandra asked.

"Back to Ember and under the well then?" Marcus asked. Everyone nodded in agreement.

* * *

"Yes? How may I help you?" Haeromos asked the tall armoured woman who was standing in front of his desk. There was something about the way the woman stood, arms casually folded and feet slightly apart. Her eyes every now and then would scan the room but would always come back to who she was speaking to, in this case him. This told Haeromos that she was an experienced adventurer of the highest order.

"I thought you might like to know that there is another survivor of Ember. A young boy by the name of Marcus. I've left him in the care of Falgor at the Alliance Arms Inn," Serena said.

Haeromos' eyebrows threatened to crawl off his forehead. "What? How did you find him? Unless you've been to Ember?" he asked, not sure what to think.

Serena nodded. "Yes, I've been to Ember, along with some friends of mine. Nya will be pleased we did as she asked. The people of Ember will not rise as undead. We found the boy hiding in the well, cold and hungry, but otherwise alive."

Haeromos nodded slowly as he realised who this woman was. He'd heard his men talk about an adventurer who'd put the fear of the gods into Elgun, and it had been quite the display from all accounts. She'd left in the company of the man that Alaine thought was responsible for Ember.

"So you're the one who put the fear of the gods into Elgun, eh?" Haeromos asked. "Can't say that I mind as he's had a scare put into him, and about time."

Serena smiled. "I was indeed. Serena Darkstar, at your service," she said with an elegant bow.

Haeromos smiled in return. "Luskan will not learn of the boy and Torio will be in for quite the surprise when he testifies at the upcoming trail of your friend."

"Good. That's all I needed to hear, First Captain," Serena said with a grin. "Well… I should really be on my way back to Neverwinter."

* * *

"Does... does anyone else feel that?" Neeshka asked, feeling a little flushed. "It's like a warmth, a tingling in my chest."

"These caverns feel odd, the colours seem... brighter, too bright, somehow," Elanee said with a frown, as she looked round.

"There is something in these caverns... I feel odd, like my senses are sharpened. There is something strange at work here," Sand observed.

"I feel it too," Marcus said. "What do you think we should do, Sand?"

The wizard tapped his chin in thought. "I think we should be careful of spell use here, at least until we know what we're dealing with. It may be overcautious, but... But I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. And I appreciate you asking my opinion, Marcus... for it is more than your Uncle would do."

Ulip's eyes grew big. "More intruders! Wake up, wake up!" he cried to his men. "Stay back or we kill you!" he warned Marcus.

Marcus just laughed at the little goblin. He'd faced far worse than a pack of ragtag goblins and they dared to threaten him? The harbourman snapped. He'd had enough of being hunted and running round trying to clear his name.

"I think you'll find that difficult, vermin!" Marcus snarled as he drew his longsword and dispatched the goblin with one quick clean blow to its head.

* * *

"Haeromos? What's wrong?" Alaine asked.

"Nothing's wrong, Alaine; in fact, I have some good news," the First Captain said as he sat next to the young woman. "You're not the sole survivor, after all. A young boy has just come into town by the name of Marcus."

Alaine began to sob with tears of joy. "Marcus? Yes… I know him. Strange… boy."

Not knowing what else to do Haeromos pulled the sobbing woman into a hug and held her until she had calmed down.

* * *

"Ah, excellent, another piece to the puzzle," Sand said as he picked up a ring from the goblin chief's cold dead hand.

"Why? It's just a ring," Shandra said.

"No it's not 'just a ring', girl," Sand said mildly annoyed. "You see these... the teeth-like projections around the edge? This ring is a symbol of the Circle of Blades, a group of assassins native to Luskan. Marcus has already recovered one such ring when you foolishly went to the Solace Glade and almost got yourself killed, which I'm sure at the time would have delighted Neeshka no end, but would have put a damper on finding your grandfather's Haven," the moon elf said. "The man the goblins killed was an assassin... very far from home, it would seem. I think we've found all the clues we need. I say we head back to Neverwinter and report to Nevalle what we've found." The wizard had a satisfied grin on his face.

Shandra frowned. "Hang on. If the goblins overpowered and killed one man, why were we able to kill them so easily?"

"You've just answered your own question Shandra," Casavir said. "There are seven of us. Too many for the goblins to handle."

"Aye, lass, and we have four spell slingers of our own, too," Khelgar said. "More than evened the odds."

The three missing spell casters, Elanee, Neeshka and Marcus walked back into the main cavern. In the harbourman's hand was a large, softly glowing stone. He held it up for the others to see. "According to Elanee, this was what was poisoning the trees in the Duskwood," he said.

"So that's the 'glowstone' that insane dryad was talking about… Hmm," Sand said.

Marcus frowned "Do you hear that scuttling sound?" he asked

"Uh… you may want to look behind you," Shandra said, looking pale.

Slowly everyone else turned to face what Shandra could see. They weren't prepared for the enormous spider that they saw emerge from the shadows and scuttle toward them, its massive abdomen glimmering with a pale, unearthly light. As it drew closer, the spider paused, regarding the seven adventures with its multitude of eyes.

"Well… it doesn't seem to be attacking... but what I wouldn't give for a huge book to crush it flat with right now," Sand said quietly.

Marcus studied the huge arachnid, which was simply the largest spider he'd ever seen. Not even Mere swamp spiders got that big. Their big blue friend had to be a least eight feet tall and about twelve feet long and almost as wide due to its legs. The really unsettling thing Marcus found was the way it was watching them. It was as if it were trying to determine whether or not they were friend or foe. "What do you want?" he asked.

For a long moment, the spider waved its mandibles, as if it were considering its response. Then it began to scratch a symbol in the ground with its foreleg.

"This spider is highly intelligent… why, those glyphs are close enough to writing ... My, this is fascinating," Sand said, a little wonderingly.

"And you're the one who wanted to crush it with a book?" Marcus said with a smirk. Sand merely waved the harbourman's comment away as he continued to watch the spider.

"You know, I want to sell this thing to the next carnival troupe we encounter. We'd make a fortune in gold," Neeshka said with a smile as her eyes sparkled.

"Neesh!" Marcus hissed, mildly appalled, and also amused. "Can't you stop thinking about your coin purse for just a moment?" he asked as he pulled her into a hug.

"Sorry, harbour boy, old habits die hard, I guess," the tiefling replied as she put her head on his shoulder. "Anyway, you've got to admit that's pretty cool. A spider that can draw."

As the spider completed the first symbol, it inspected it for a moment, and then started to add several more. It also seemed to focus some of its eyes on Marcus and Neeshka. The spider inclined its head slightly, almost as if it had decided that the harbourman was the leader of the seven bipeds and that the tiefling he held was his mate. That's if the spider was interpreting the pheromones that it could detect correctly.

Elanee studied the runes that the spider had made. "You're an outcast. You're being hunted by the others of your kind, and you're... hungry," she said. The spider clacked its mandibles excitedly and scribbled another series of marks in the dirt of the cave floor.

"Good that we kept that insect collection, isn't it?" Marcus asked as he tossed it at the spider. The spider easily caught the gnomes' collection of insects, deftly tore apart the little wooden boxes, and thrust its fangs into squirming weevils and grubs.

"Gods, it's like watching Khelgar eat. Ewwww," Neeshka shuddered.

"Hey, I'm not that bad, goat girl," the dwarf shot back.

After happily feeding for some time, the spider raised its fangs and scratched out another marking in the dirt with its foreleg.

"I think… I think it wants to come with us," Elanee said, truly surprised

"Is it just me or does it look... happy?" Neeshka asked. "And gods, those fangs are huge, it's... still got insect bits on them. Ewww."

"It seems we've made a friend," Sand observed dryly. "Marcus, may I suggest that you let it down it easy with a polite, but firm, refusal," the moon elf whispered.

The spider seemed to be waiting as it looked at the harbourman expectantly. Marcus inclined his head or at least as much as he could as he still held Neeshka. "I'd be honoured to have you join us."

Elanee nodded approvingly. "It seems nature has given us a gift... and we need all the help we can get."

The spider twitched its mandibles excitedly and as it did so it sketched a single, graceful rune in the dirt. Elanee studied the mark. "That looks like the elvish symbol for friendship... 'kistrel'." The druid smiled. "As good a name as any." Kistrel clacked its mandibles twice, and then scuttled away, into the darkness. As the spider vanished Marcus got the sense that he'd soon see the creature again.


	6. Return to Port Llast

"Are you alright, harbour boy?" Neeshka asked as they made their way to Port Llast.

"As well as can be expected, sweetheart," Marcus replied with a sigh. "I'm stressed. Sick to death of being hunted by gith, Luskan assassins and gods know who else." The harbourman rolled his eyes. "This keeps up, I'm going to crack. If I haven't already," he added quietly.

"That's what worries me," Neeshka said, looking at him. "I think you have started to lose it. I mean, the way you acted with that dryad and those goblins…" she shook her head. "That wasn't you. I don't know who it was, but it wasn't my harbour boy." Neeshka couldn't keep the quiver out of her voice.

"I must agree with Neeshka, Marcus," Casavir's deep voice rumbled. "I have been concerned about your actions. Not that they have been completely unwarranted. The slaughter of the goblins I find particularly worrying, as I do not think they were evil."

Marcus's head turned sharply to face the paladin. "What makes you say that, Casavir?" the harbourman asked with a worried frown.

"I did not detect an aura of evil from the goblins," Casavir replied, facing him with a frown.

"Are you telling me, Casavir, that we're responsible for wiping out a band of good goblins?" Marcus asked, looking ill. "All because I was having a really bad day?"

"They were certainly _not _evil," the paladin replied slowly. "Yes, that's what I'm trying to tell you."

Marcus just passed a hand over his face and sighed heavily. "Torm forgive me," he muttered.

"Before you punish yourself too much, Marcus," Elanee interjected, "…bear in mind the goblins were guarding that glowstone. I do not think that they would have let us remove it without it ending in violence. As far as nature is concerned, the balance has been upheld. The goblins' lives for the well-being of the trees in the Duskwood."

"There is that way of looking at it," Casavir admitted. "But it would have been good to have talked to them first."

"Help me, Neesh," Marcus whispered. "I don't want to become like Leldon."

"I'm here for you, harbour boy," the tiefling replied, holding her man tightly. "I won't let you fall and become like him. I've lived in that world for too long and I won't lose the best thing in my life to it. Torm help me, I love you, Marcus Cole." It wasn't lost on the harbourman that Neeshka had invoked Torm's name and not Tymora's, but that was something for later.

"I promised to guide the both of you as best as I am able and I shall," Casavir said. "You will not face the future alone."

"As did I," Elanee said. "You are of the Mere, Marcus, just as I am, even though we have travelled far from its borders."

"Aye, lad, and I've got you and your lass's back, so says Khelgar Ironfist!" the dwarf said, showing his support.

Shandra just looked on, not sure what to think. She'd known they were a tight-knit group but she didn't realise until now just _how _tight. From what she'd been told, Khelgar and Neeshka had been the first to join the harbourman and Elanee had joined soon after. Casavir had joined much later, when Marcus and Neeshka's relationship was well established. The farm girl cast a glance at Sand who had been the most recent addition to the strange band. The moon elf was just observing, though he did have a slightly worried expression on his face.

Sand walked up to his two apprentices, stood in between them, and placed an arm around each. "I think it's time you both heard the story of Qara, a sorceress I tried to teach some years ago," he said. "I failed horridly, for she was too addicted to the power that came with being a sorceress and she tended to ridicule the art. Not necessarily magic itself, but those that have to practice it to achieve the level she had." Sand looked from Neeshka to Marcus as he spoke. "Sometimes... such magics do not come easily to others. And one must sharpen the mind to wield magic as a weapon. Unfortunately, she was dull to it." The sadness in the moon elf's voice was apparent. "Qara would be a good example of what happens when power corrupts. When things are too easy, the soul suffers." The moon elf sighed heavily. "She did not train herself, learn discipline, and in the end her power consumed her, drove her mad. It is a lesson you both could stand to learn yourselves, I think."

"Both of us?" Marcus asked. "What do you mean, Sand?"

Sand smiled slightly. "Marcus, my friend, you and Neeshka have both changed since you first came into my shop all those months ago. Both of you will, in time, have the power to affect the world around you and do so dramatically," Sand said seriously. "It could be said you already do. All I would advise is that you sometimes listen to those who tell you what you do not want to hear. Make no mistake about it, you _will _come to have tremendous power, and that makes both of you dangerous," the wizard said. "If you keep it inside, it will consume you, as it did Qara, or worse, it will consume your judgment, as it has done with so many others."

Neeshka bit her bottom lip. "Is that why you warned me about my powers?" she asked, a little afraid.

Sand nodded. "Yes, but unlike Qara you, my dear, are learning _discipline_. I have to say I haven't had this much fun in years. Both of you have been a joy to teach, as you both want to learn," the wizard said with a reassuring smile. "Neeshka, once you learn to master your power, you need not fear it. It was the one thing Qara failed to realise, much less learn. You have to _control _your power, not let _it _control you as Qara did, which sadly ultimately doomed the poor girl." Sand smiled a little. "But enough of my rambling. Let us press on to Port Llast."

Khelgar stroked his beard in thought at the wizard's words. _Sand is right. Neeshka has a strong desire to learn from him. She's like an over eager school girl, as she has to share her progress with everyone. _The dwarf grinned. _I wouldn't have it any other way.__ I've seen Neeshka change from self serving thief to loving and loyal companion. Now she's changing again and becoming an accomplished and confident spell caster. Through it all though, Neeshka's basic personality hasn't changed. She's still the rebellious teenager, not really caring about rules or laws too much and having a fixation with her coin purse, or more usually other peoples'._

* * *

Valen Shadowbreath strode down a street in the Merchant Quarter of Neverwinter, looking for the temple of Torm where he was to meet Serena. His heavy flail, Devil's Bane, was slung on his back and his green, black and gold armour glinted in the sunlight.

The tiefling weapon master stopped all of a sudden, as an all too familiar high pitched voice called out to passersby. "By the pits of hell, it can't be," Valen muttered as his blue eyes scoured the nearby stalls. "It's _not _possible that he'd be here." But in the shadow of one of the stalls Valen could indeed see a shape he knew all too well. "What did I do in a past life to endure this?" the tiefling muttered darkly as he walked toward the small creature.

Deekin, adventurer, bard and now seller of rare and powerful items, looked up as he heard heavy footsteps. "Goat-man?" he asked incredulously, seeing Valen. "What's you be doing in Neverwinter?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing, kobold," the weapon master replied, looking down at the small reptilian bard.

Deekin gave Valen a big tooth-filled grin. "Deekin collect many strange things running around world, with the boss and Goat-man. Hard to carry. Sat them down for a moment on Neverwinter street to catch breath, and suddenly, people start coming up to Deekin and asking to buy things from him. Deekin hungry, so Deekin figure that all right. His back hurt from carrying all that stuff anyway, good riddance to all that junk, Deekin thinks." The kobold frowned. "Deekin not sure how long market will last, though. Big troubles in area, very scary to Deekin. Deekin hear bad things in Luskan city. Luskan city smell bad, but easy to hide there."

Valen shook his head in amazement. "Kobold, you have to be the luckiest being I know," he said. "That, at least, explains what _you__'__re _doing here. As for me, I'm looking for Serena."

Deekin's eyes shone. "The boss be here?" he said, looking around. "Where?"

Valen rolled his eyes. "Yes, Serena is here somewhere in Neverwinter. Come on, if you want. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you as well," the tiefling replied, knowing his sarcasm was lost on the bard. Valen was aware of the soft spot Serena had for the little kobold.

* * *

"Oh, hello! You must be the friends Serena mentioned, yes?" Nya asked as Marcus and his companions walked up to her.

"Indeed we are, and we've done as you asked. The people of Ember now rest in peace," Marcus said.

"Then you have a good heart, and I thank you," Nya said as she looked though her robes for something. "I've kept this amulet all these years," she said as she held out a very expensive looking amulet to the harbourman. "It once belonged to my love, but I think it will suit you well," Nya said, the pride evident in her voice.

Marcus was speechless for a few moments. "I cannot take something that obviously means much to you, Nya," he stammered.

"That is a great gift. With it, she gives you her heart... and hope," Casavir observed, respectfully quiet.

"Please take it. It will mean much to me to know that some one worthy has it," Nya said.

"Then I shall treasure it, Nya," Marcus said with a smile, as he took the amulet, though to him it still didn't feel right somehow.

Casavir nodded approvingly. "It is good to respect such a thing... it has much of herself invested in it, Marcus."

* * *

Serena was about to walk up the steps of the temple when she heard a voice from behind her yell, "Boss!"

The priestess turned around and saw Deekin come running toward her, with Valen walking behind him. "Deek? What in Torm's name are you doing in Neverwinter?" Serena asked as she scooped up the little bard and placed him on her shoulders.

"Goat-man already ask Deekin that, boss," the kobold replied, looking down at the ground. "Deekin forget how tall boss is."

"It seems he's been selling some of the items that he'd acquired in his travels with us," Valen said. "A kobold shopkeeper! It's almost as hard to believe as a kobold bard," the tiefling said with a straight face.

Serena laughed. "Valen, behave!" she scolded lightly. "I think that's wonderful, in a really innocent way." Serena took Valen's hand. "Now come with me. I'm taking you both to the Sunken Flagon, down in the docks for dinner, as soon as I get out of my armour," Serena said as she led Valen into the temple, with Deekin still perched on her shoulders. "I want to introduce you to the foster uncle of a friend of mine."

Valen eyed Serena warily. "Why do I have the feeling I am about to find myself involved in another crazy adventure?" he asked.

* * *

"What do you know about the boy, Marcus?" the harbourman asked.

"Now that boy... he's an odd one. Just wandered out of the wood, they say, and attached himself to some folk in Ember," Falgor replied as he rubbed his chin. "He'd come in and out of here with the other Ember folk. Nice enough lad. Bit too serious for a child, but better that than running about and breakin' things. He can stay here, long as he likes. Gods know I can always use another kitchen boy, and I don't figure he'll trouble the customers."

"Thank you. That's kind of you. But are you sure an inn is the best place for him?" Casavir asked.

"It's the least I can do. Had me a few friends in Ember, and they were fond of the boy. They'd want him warm and fed." Falgor gave a shrug. "I'm not sure of anything about that boy, but if he can tell me beforehand which nights are like to be busy and when there's like to be a brawl, he can sleep in his own room and eat all he likes. But I'll see if I can't talk to Nya about the boy. Might be there's a place at the Academy for someone like him. Or perhaps there will be, in a few years time," the innkeeper said.

"Oh, I don't know, I might be able to convince my friend here to take him on as an apprentice in time," Marcus said, nodding towards Sand.

"Dear boy, I have no intention of starting a wizard's school," the moon elf replied flatly, though he had to admit that he did find the idea of tutoring the strange boy very intriguing. "You and Neeshka are more than enough for me to handle."

* * *

Neeshka stopped short as they entered the common room, catching sight of a dark haired man in leather armour, a long bow on his back. She hadn't liked him ever since he'd joined the harbour boy in rescuing Shandra. _Just what is Bishop doing here?_ she thought.

"Ah, Malin. Still playing girl-of-the-wood?" Bishop asked snidely on seeing a half-elven ranger huddled by the blazing fire.

Malin looked up and rolled her eyes. "Bishop. I was wondering when you'd drag your sorry carcass back to Port Llast," she said, not hiding the fact she thought he was a first-class jerk.

"You waited for me... I'm touched. Then again, it's not like you could have tracked me down if you wanted to," Bishop remarked as he walked over to her.

Malin snorted. "Don't flatter yourself, Bishop. I could track you down if I wanted to." She looked over the top of the mug of soup she was drinking. "Though why I'd want to, I really don't know."

Bishop raised an eyebrow. "Really? As I recall you nearly got us both killed several times over while scouting the Luskan border… Impatience, incompetence... these things get scouts killed. That's the trouble when you're not fully an elf... and not fully a human. It's like you've always got something to prove…"

_So that's what nature boy is doing here, _Neeshka thought angrily, as all the times she'd been called a half breed or worse came rushing back. The tiefling didn't think. She just reacted, tapping Bishop lightly on the shoulder.

The ranger felt a tap on his left shoulder. As Bishop turned to see who had the balls to disturb him, all he saw was a feminine fist connect with the left side of his jaw. There was a sound of bone cracking, there was that much force behind the punch. Bishop lost his balance and fell backwards, breaking his longbow in the process.

"She isn't the only half breed around here, ranger," Neeshka growled, baring her teeth, her eyes glowing an angry red and her tail lashing about. She was contemplating using that tail to strangle Bishop. "I'd be very careful where you throw your half breed wisecracks, Bishop, otherwise you'll find that big mouth of yours will get you into more trouble than you can handle, nature boy," she said, scowling.

Malin smiled, impressed. "Nice," was all she said.

Bishop was actually terrified of the tiefling as she stood over him scowling, though he was far too experienced to let it show. He'd never seen her so angry. He was sure that Neeshka was more than capable of killing him easily in her current state of mind.

"You demonic bitch, you broke my jaw," Bishop said as he tested his jaw. "And my longbow," he added as an afterthought.

Neeshka smiled coldly. "Shame I didn't break anything more vital, like, say, your neck, nature boy."

"Neesh, what's the matter?" Marcus asked carefully as he pulled her into a hug. He'd been shocked to see her slug the ranger the way she had. No warning at all, just a tap on the shoulder, and wallop.

"You don't know what it was like to be called a half breed, or worse," Neeshka said softly, looking up at the man she loved. "Sure, you get used to it after a while, but it still hurts. I had to put up with it at Helm's Hold from the other kids, then later, on the streets of Neverwinter." The tiefling looked over at the half-elf. "I envy Malin a little, as her parents obviously loved each other. I don't know if that was the case with mine," Neeshka said, looking back at Marcus. "Did my mother love my father or was she raped? That's a question I don't really want an answer to. It's funny, I always think of my mother being my human side," she finished quietly.

Marcus didn't know what to say to his tiefling lover, but his heart ached at the thought of his Neeshka being called a half breed. The harbourman frowned. _While I suppose it's technically correct, I've always seen Neeshka first and foremost as a woman. You can't miss her mixed heritage though,_ he thought. _Ah, you can't do much about other people's short-sightedness, _he told himself. "Neesh, I think you should say sorry to Bishop. He might be a bit of an ass at times, but getting slugged like that was overkill." Neeshka was going to protest when Marcus silenced her with a quick kiss. "I know you're angry at him for calling Malin a half breed, and it brought back bad memories for you, but Neesh, you broke his jaw," he pointed out. "Remind me not to get on your bad side sweetheart."

"I find myself agreeing with Marcus, Neeshka." Casavir spoke up. "You have every right to be angry but physical violence achieves nothing." The paladin was pleased that Marcus had called Neeshka on hitting Bishop. _Now we've just got to get_ _Marcus to admit that he has his own problems with his temper, _he thought.

"Oh alright, I guess I can say sorry to nature boy," Neeshka said, pouting, for she wasn't exactly jumping for joy at the idea.

"Here, take this," Marcus suggested as he passed her Bishop's skinning knife. "Might help smooth things over."

Bishop by this time had picked himself off the floor, along with what little dignity he had left as the entire common room was staring at him in shock. He noticed that Malin had a slightly smug expression. The ranger was in no doubt that she was quietly gloating at his misfortune. Not that this was a surprise.

"Come over here, Bishop, and let me see to that jaw of yours," Elanee said as she guided the ranger away. As she did, she wondered why Bishop didn't heal it himself, though now that she thought about it, she'd never seen him with an animal companion, either. Elanee frowned. _No spells or animal companion, _she thought. _That can only mean he's faithless. Somehow that does not surprise me. A shame really, Bishop could be more than he is if he wished._

Neeshka followed the druid and the ranger, still sulking. She didn't see why she had to apologise. _Perhaps I'm still too upset, _she thought_, or just plain stubborn. I'll apologise though, as much as I don't really want to, because the harbour boy and Casbear asked me to._ The tiefling didn't want to disappoint either man. _Maybe breaking Bishop's jaw was a bit much, but it sure felt good. _

Elanee examined Bishop's jaw carefully. "Yes, that is broken indeed. Let me see what I can do." She gently moved the bones back into place and used a healing spell. "That should be better."

Neeshka held out the skinning knife, looking Bishop in the eyes. _I might not like doing this but I'm not backing down. _"Sorry I broke your jaw, Bishop. Guess I got carried away," the tiefling said. _He better be grateful_, she thought.

The ranger snorted as he tested his jaw. "What's this? The demon wench actually apologising? No doubt because your precious harbour boy asked you to," he taunted.

Elanee let out a sigh. "Can't you just accept something at face value for once, Bishop?" she asked. "No one here is out to get you."

The ranger looked at Elanee and smiled grimly. "I always think someone is out to get me, wood elf. That's just how I am."

"Then you must lead a very hollow existence indeed, Bishop," the druid replied sadly.

"Do you want this back or not?" Neeshka snapped, waving the ranger's skinning knife about.

Bishop actually looked surprised. "My skinning knife. So that weird kid gave it back?" the ranger asked,covering his surprise with indifference as he attached it to his belt. "You still owe me a longbow, demon girl," the ranger added.

"Thought that was obvious, nature boy," Neeshka replied. "Don't push your luck, Bishop. My generosity with you goes only so far," the tiefling warned.

"As long as it covers a new longbow, that's all I care about, demon girl," Bishop said as he sauntered off to the bar to get a drink.

* * *

"It seems you've had the misfortune to know Bishop, Malin." Marcus said.

The half elf nodded. "Sadly, I've had the pleasure of knowing the good for nothing but first, I have a question for you… why is he with you? Loyalty isn't high on Bishop's list… and he doesn't help _anyone_, unless the price is right or you have something over him."

Marcus rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah well… he helped us get through the Luskan border so we could rescue a friend. Not that he did it that willingly."

"Ah... Luskans. Bishop hates them... it's the only genuine emotion I've ever seen from him," Malin replied thoughtfully as she looked at the harbourman. "I learned my lesson the hard way, trust me. Bishop hates being in anyone's debt, almost as much as he hates Luskans." The ranger shuddered slightly. "The things he's done to them at the border... That's why I couldn't travel with him anymore... but he's good, I'll give him that. Just... just don't turn your back on him, alright?"

"I don't plan on turning my back, Malin and I don't trust him that much, either. But thanks for the warning," Marcus said.

Malin nodded. "Good. Just be more careful than I was. Bishop doesn't serve anyone but himself. That's just who he is and I almost pity him sometimes because of it." She looked at Neeshka. "The tiefling's obviously your girlfriend?" she asked Marcus; the harbourman nodded in reply. "Then keep a real close eye on Bishop. He's not above using those you're close to, to get back at you for something he thinks you've done," Malin warned.

* * *

"Cormick, lad, good to see you, and on duty too?" Duncan asked with a smile as he saw the Greycloak Marshal enter the Flagon.

"I hear you've taken in Wolf and his friends, old friend," Cormick replied, as he sat down on a bar stool. "I have to ask what's made the crusty old innkeeper take in a dozen ten-year-olds."

The half elf looked thoughtful for a long time before he spoke. "I'm not sure why I did it," he said. "I have to admit I've treated the tiefling lass, Neeshka, pretty badly. It took a paladin of Tyr to get me to get my head out of my ass. So maybe I can do something right make it up to her a little, as I know she grew up on the streets for the most part."

Cormick nodded with a smile. "That she did. I've had a few run-ins with Neeshka over the years. Never been able to prove anything, but she's got her heart in the right place, mostly." Then the Marshal grinned. "Though I'm reliably informed that a certain watch lieutenant we both know has had something of a major impact on her life."

Duncan laughed. "Aye, Cormick, that's one way to put it. Marcus and Neeshka have affected each other in ways they weren't expecting. Hells, I know I wasn't expecting it, but it took Casavir the paladin to make me realise that maybe they're meant to be." The innkeeper shook his head. "I know that sounds crazy, but when you see them together…"

Cormick nodded. "I know what you mean. Captain Brelaina still can't work out the attraction. But I don't think you're meant to."

* * *

"My pardons, but do you have any news of Bradbury?" Calindra asked hopefully.

"I'm sorry Calindra… we found his body inside a cave in the Duskwood," Marcus said quietly.

Calindra shook her head sadly. "How many times did I tell him? Brawn should always be tempered by caution and wisdom. I'll miss him, even if he was a fool." Calindra sighed. "Without Bradbury, I will stay here for a time and look for work. If I find nothing, I will have no choice but to return alone to Amn, and to my father's employ," she said glumly.

"Well, if I hear of any suitable opportunities, I'll try and get a message to you," Marcus said.

Calindra smiled a little. "For that, I would be doubly grateful. In Amn, a coin in the right pocket is all that is required to secure a contract. Here, it is all in who you know," she replied before she walked away.

Marcus turned to Elanee. "Where did Bishop go?" he asked.

"He went to the bar, most likely to nurse his pride, or drown his sorrows I'm uncertain which." the druid replied with a faint smile. "I am glad that the young boy Marcus survived Ember. It reminded me far too much what befell my people at the hands of the orcs in the Mere."

"So that's why you were so subdued while we were in Ember?" the harbourman asked, concerned. "It brought back long forgotten memories."

The wood elf nodded. "Yes it did. It took me by surprise, but I am alright now. You do not need to worry about me, Marcus. I'll be fine," she said, trying to reassure the harbourman.

"As long as you're certain, Elanee," Marcus replied.

"I am. You've been a good friend to us all despite what's been happening to you. I will treasure our friendship for as long as we both live," Elanee said with a gentle smile.

Sand couldn't help but smile, for the druid was right. Marcus continued to try to be friends with his companions in spite of the fact his world was upside down. "Marcus, my friend, if we're finished here, let's take what we have to Nevalle… and deal with these Luskan accusations once and for all," he reminded the harbourman. "We should be able to find Nevalle in Castle Never, no doubt anxiously awaiting our return like a fretful hen," the wizard said with a roll of his eyes.

Marcus chuckled. "There's no love lost where Nevalle is concerned, is there, Sand?" he asked. "But it sounds like a good idea. Let's get back to Neverwinter."


	7. The Trial Part 1

"Do I have to wear a dress?" Neeshka complained as Elanee helped her with the garment.

"Yes, you do, Neeshka," the druid replied. "You are a squire's lady so you must look the part. I know you're not used to wearing such a thing, but neither am I," Elanee admitted, for she too had a dress on, one that Sir Darmon had picked out for her.

"Hey, how do you think I feel?" Shandra chimed in. "I can't even remember the last time I wore a dress," the farm girl said.

"And if it's any consolation, the boys have to get scrubbed up as well. Can you see Khelgar in respectable attire?" the wood elf asked.

Neeshka giggled at the image of the dwarf dressed up. "Barrel house? No, I can't see it myself," she replied, feeling happier.

* * *

"Well, how do I look, Sand?" Marcus asked as he pulled on his jacket.

"Well now, I'd never know you were from a little backwater. You scrub up well, my boy," the wizard replied. "The young ladies of Blacklake, I'm sure, would be swooning over you if it were not for the small detail that you are already taken."

Marcus laughed. "That'd make Neeshka jealous which wouldn't be a good thing, not with her temper."

"Yes, the two of you had better be careful not to take Torio's bait. She'd be very happy if one or both of you were to let your tempers get the better of you in court today," Sand said seriously.

The harbourman sighed. "I understand, Sand. I'll try not to let her piss me off. Speaking of Torio, do you think she knows about Neeshka and myself?" Marcus asked.

Sand tapped his chin in thought. "I'd be very surprised if she does not. After all, you haven't kept it a secret, nor have you had any reason to do so. Both you and Neeshka have found the other attractive and that's all there is to it." The wizard smiled slightly. "Though knowing Torio, the harpy that she is, she'd try and play on the fact that Neeshka has infernal blood, not that Nasher would stand for such a cheap parlor trick." Sand finished adjusting his robes, then looked over at Marcus. "It seems we're ready. May I suggest we go and see if the ladies are ready, and then proceed to Castle Never and get this mockery of a trial out of the way?"

* * *

"Lord Nasher Alagondar, Defender of Neverwinter and Reverend Judge Oleff Uskar, Lord Justiciar of Tyr," announced a palace guard as Nasher entered the court room along with Oleff. Nasher took his seat, with Nevalle to his right as always and Uskar standing on the left. Lord Nasher sighed as he surveyed that packed court room. Torio was already standing at her table, which was to his right, awaiting the arrival of Marcus and Sand.

"Bring in the accused," Nasher ordered, sounding somewhat unhappy.

Sand, followed by Marcus, Neeshka, Shandra, Elanee, Khelgar and Casavir, all filed in and took up their places opposite Torio on Nasher's left. All of Marcus's group sat apart from the harbourman and Sand. Marcus cast a glance around the packed court room, and smiled when he saw Serena and who had to be Valen standing near the doors. The priestess smiled and the weapon master gave a nod. Also present was Sir Grayson. Marcus was less pleased to see a large bear of a man standing near to Torio. There was something oddly familiar about the man, and then Marcus realised with horror that it was Lorne Starling.

"Reverend Judge, let the trial commence," Nasher said.

"Under Tyr's guidance shall the truth of this matter be revealed and justice delivered. Is the accuser here?" Oleff asked.

"I speak for those the accused slaughtered at Ember. And I am here to see that justice is carried out this day," Torio said, sounding full of confidence, which was more than she felt. _I told you this was a bad idea, Garius, but did you listen?_ she thought bitterly.

Marcus had to hold back a snort at Torio's boldness. "You _dare_ speak for the dead of Ember, Ambassador?" he asked, blue eyes shooting cold fire.  
"You and your _master_ are the ones responsible," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"I think you speak out of turn, _murderer._ You are on trial today, not I," Torio replied, her anger rising.

"We'll see about that, you _witch_!" Marcus retorted.

"Enough!" Oleff yelled. "Both of you will be silent. This trial has barely begun," he said with a sigh.

"Oh, this will be fun. Well said, by the way, nothing like a simple turn of phrase to make Torio look the fool," Sand remarked quietly as he rubbed his hands, amused at the gathered crowd's murmuring.

"And is the accused here? And his defender?" Oleff asked.

"We are present, and eager to bring the truth of this matter into Tyr's sight, Reverend Judge," Sand replied with a bright smile.

"Very well. We now list the items presented by the accused in their defence, and they will be shown to the people of the court, Lord Nasher, and held aloft for the eye of Tyr to see. First off..."

Sand turned to Marcus. "It may take a while for them to get through all the evidence, bless it, and the rest of the ritual nonsense, so if you have anything you want to ask, now's the best time," he said in a low voice.

"Do you have any advice for me, Sand?" the harbourman asked. "I don't mind telling you I feel in over my head. But I'm getting used to that feeling... slowly."

"Well… Torio is an _arrogant_ creature, but she is not a Luskan ambassador for nothing. This court is her theatre, her arena, and she has had years of experience in treachery and twisting words," Sand said. "While evidence helps a case, she knows it is often the _drama_, the belief of everyone here as to who is guilty and who is not that will ultimately win the day." The moon elf's voice took on a low, warning tone. "Do _not _forget that the rabble are here today to see someone _hang_… unless you can convince them you have been wronged, and grievously so, it is an uphill battle you fight."

"So, any idea on strategy? Can you suggest something?" Marcus asked.

Sand began tapping his chin. "It is somewhat... _unorthodox_, but playing upon the animosity between Luskan and Neverwinter may help you..." The wizard looked Marcus in the eyes, "…but that will only go so far, and _may_ even help Torio in convincing the court that your actions may have been an attempt to start another war, which no one in Neverwinter wants," he said. "I cannot give you a clear strategy, but remember that trading diplomatic words with Torio will be difficult... Do _not_ resort to such a duel unless you feel you can absolutely win. And do not threaten her or try to bluff her unless you are equally certain… if you fail, you are bound for the gallows for certain."

Marcus nodded solemnly. "Alright, thanks, Sand. I'll heed your advice. And thanks for representing me."

"Well, I'm glad _someone _does," the moon elf replied with a sniff. "I _occasionally_ have a good idea, you know." The wizard paused a moment, a smile forming on his face. "Oh… Well, you're welcome. But really, no thanks needed. I assure you, this is a labour of love, and I _relish_ the thought of seeing Luskan lose face… and possibly Torio losing her _head_," he said gleefully. "Come, let us deliver some humiliation, one arrow at a time. It looks like they have finished dispensing the evidence."

"...and that is the evidence before us." Oleff said as he concluded the presentation of the evidence. The gathered crowd murmured, looking none too happy toward Torio.

"Perfect. Look at their faces… Torio's got quite a task ahead of her," Sand said smugly. "That little harpy, let's see her fly out of this little trap," the moon elf said, rubbing his hands together with glee.

"The accuser, Ambassador Torio Claven of Luskan, may now call witnesses to the stand," Oleff announced.

"These pieces of... _evidence_... if that is what they _truly_ are, can easily be explained away. It may seem extensive, but our witnesses will tell a different story," Torio said, irritated. _This isn__'__t going to go well,_ she thought.

"Excuse me, Ambassador, but are you speculating on the_ truth_ of the evidence?" Marcus asked innocently.

"Speculate? The _truth_ is what we are here to determine. Everything is in question," Torio replied, slightly surprised by the harbourman's question.

"Is that so?" Marcus asked with an eyebrow raised. "You seemed quite certain of my guilt. So are you admitting _that_ is also in question?"

"Of course not, and I aim to prove it!" Torio snapped, on the defensive.

Marcus became serious. "Which_ is_ it, Ambassador? Am I guilty or _not_ in your eyes? I am finding it difficult to find the truth in _your_ wordplay."

"I suggest you hold your tongue… I think you will want to hear what my witnesses have to say," Torio replied, losing her self-control a little.

"As you say, Ambassador, as you say," the harbourman replied with a smirk as the gathered crowd chuckled at the Ambassador.

"My, she has a temper. Well done, I am impressed," Sand remarked. "If this keeps up, I may well learn something."

"My first witness, yes… and a most important one, Reverend Judge. Unknown to many, the people of Ember were not slaughtered to the last woman and child," Torio said. "I call on Alaine, the last living resident of Ember, to speak on what she saw that fateful day." Torio frowned in annoyance when she saw that neither Sand nor Marcus was particularly surprised at her revelation. If the Ambassador didn't know better, she'd say they were calmly talking strategy.

"Let's hope the paladin's idea works," Sand said quietly as he leaned over to the harbourman. "And don't forget to ask Oleff to cross examine Alaine."

Marcus nodded as he saw Alaine being escorted in by Haeromos, and he turned to Oleff. "Reverend Judge, will we be allowed to cross-examine this witness?" he asked, not looking at Torio who, he was sure, was glaring daggers at him.

"Of course. It will be allowed. Both sides must be heard," Oleff replied firmly.

Torio scowled. She had been right: they were planning strategy. But _what _were they up to? The Ambassador turned her attention to her star witness. "Alaine... thank you for coming here, I know how difficult it must be. But you realize that you are the only voice of Ember that survived that terrible tragedy," Torio said soothingly. "Now... please, tell the court what you saw."

"I... I saw the accused... there at Ember... he... killed them all... All those people... and they had no weapons, they had no way of fighting back, but... but..." It was clear Alaine was having trouble keeping her composure as she remembered the massacre.

"But the accused slaughtered them all, did he not?" Torio prompted coldly. She earned a cold glare from both Haeromos and Nasher.

"Yes. I... I... saw it all… I took refuge in Port Llast... there was nowhere left for me to go," Alaine said quietly.

"You are safe now, Alaine... and the accused cannot harm you here," Torio said soothingly. "What more proof is needed?" she asked, turning towards the audience. "We have a witness, a witness that_ saw_ the accused perform the deed. Perhaps we should move on to the sentence now, the accused's guilt is plain."

"Torio… I'd watch your words very carefully in this court. Your antics may be acceptable in a Luskan court, but not _here_ in Neverwinter," Nasher said coldly. "And may I remind you that the accused has the right to cross examine your witness?"

"Of course, Lord Nasher. Please forgive me," Torio said before she turned to Marcus. "The trap has already closed; there is no squirming out of it now."

The harbourman grinned. He was going to enjoy tearing Torio apart. "Oh I think not, Ambassador. In your dreams, perhaps," Marcus said, turning to Alaine. "My friends and I spoke to you in Port Llast, Alaine and you admitted to us that it was a possibility that it was someone disguised as me, correct?"

"Yes, I did," Alaine replied.

"What?!" Torio exclaimed in disbelief; she'd just lost her star witness.

Marcus grinned at the Ambassador. "It would seem to me that Alaine just retracted her certainty of what happened. It could have been someone who _looked_ like me. You heard her, Ambassador. If you like, ask the First Captain, as he was present when we talked to Alaine," the harbourman said, nodding at Haeromos.

Torio was annoyed with herself. She should've seen this coming as Marcus hadn't been surprised at all by Alaine's appearance. Now she knew why. "First Captain Haeromos, is what the accused said true?" Torio asked.

"It is as the accused said, Ambassador. I was present when he and his friends talked to Alaine, though the accused took little part as he was… concerned by other matters," Haeromos explained. "But the accused's friends did talk to Alaine, and she did indeed admit that there was a possibility that it could have been someone with a magical disguise."

Torio frowned. "You say that the accused took little part? How is that possible? I'd have thought he'd have been very active?"

Haeromos glanced at Marcus, who gave a small nod. "The accused's girlfriend had become very… distressed by Alaine's accusations, so the accused felt it was best for him to try and calm her while his friends talked to Alaine. They were still both present in the room, however."

Torio looked across at the harbourman. "_Girlfriend_?" she asked, mildly shocked.

Marcus couldn't help but smile. "What's wrong, Ambassador? Did the fact I have a girlfriend get passed you? I'm shocked, I really am, as it's not exactly a secret, you know." The crowd chuckled with amusement. "If you like, I can introduce you."

Torio nodded. "Yes let's meet this _girlfriend_ of yours… that is, if she exists at all," she taunted.

Marcus was about to turn round, but he didn't need to as he felt Neeshka come to stand at his side. "Very well Ambassador, allow me to introduce Neeshka, my girlfriend," the harbourman said, with a hint of smugness as he put an arm round the tiefling's waist.

Neeshka smiled evilly at Torio as she leaned her head on the harbourman's shoulder. "You know, harbour boy, I think you're right. Torio doesn't look much like an Ambassador in _that_ outfit. She'd have fitted in well at Ophala's _before_ she cleaned the Mask up." The crowd roared with laughter at the obvious slur not only on Torio's character but her dress sense, or lack of, as well.

"Neeshka!" Nasher scolded, trying not to show his own amusement. "You really should treat the Ambassador with more respect, young lady." Although he had to admit that Neeshka's view of Torio's dress was correct.

"Sorry, Lord Nasher, but it's hard to respect someone when they dress like _that_," Neeshka said with a small smile. "I mean, Torio looks more like a high class prostitute in that getup than an Ambassador. Makes me wonder what she _really_ does for a living, you know?" The crowd roared with laughter again at the tiefling's obvious dig.

Sand, still chuckling with amusement, turned to the tiefling. "Neeshka, my dear, you had better go sit back down, I think. Otherwise, I fear Torio may hurt something she might need," he said, looking over at the Luskan Ambassador who was blushing red; from anger or embarrassment, Sand wasn't sure. Neeshka just grinned, and kissed Marcus on the cheek before going back to her place.

Sand turned back to Alaine. "I have one more question to ask, Alaine... What were you doing outside Ember in the first place?"

Alaine looked momentarily confused. "Oh? Trade season had been light, so I was forced to take goods to Port Llast and some of the other surrounding towns and villages."

Sand frowned. "That seems strange. Why was trade season light?" he asked.

Alaine tilted her head to one side, thinking. "Well, none of our regular shipments had arrived that month, so we had to cart some of our crops to market ourselves and buy the supplies we needed," she replied.

Sand nodded in understanding. "I see. And where were these shipments supposed to come from?"

"Why, Luskan, of course," Alaine replied, as the answer should be obvious.

"I fail to see how any of this is relevant..." Torio said, breaking in. _I__'__ve got a bad feeling about this._

Sand smiled smoothly. He had Torio right where he wanted her, on the ropes. "Why, my dear Torio, if you give me just a moment, you'll soon see the relevance… Or is that what you fear, hmm?" he said, before addressing Alaine again. "Why didn't Luskan send any shipments? That seems strange, does it not?"

"I don't really know… the shipments dropped off about a month before the attack," Alaine said, looking confused.

"And this has been shown to be the case by the quartermaster's ledger, charred and burned as it may have been. It clearly showed that the grain and other shipments from Luskan had indeed tailed off during the month leading up to the attack… Almost as if _someone_ in Luskan knew the village would be destroyed," Sand said, looking right at Torio as he did so, making her squirm.

Alaine blinked with surprise. "I... I hadn't thought of that. I remember thinking it was odd at the time, but now... I never tied it to the attack at all." She felt sick. Torio had tried to use her to convict an innocent man.

Torio shifted uneasily on her feet and shuffled the papers on the table in front of her. She'd just been made to look a fool by the traitorous moon elf wizard, a tiefling and the harbourman. Things were _not _going well. "Yes, let us move on… enough has been said." _And damage done. _"I think there is someone who knows the true nature of the accused, beyond just the crime itself, someone very close to the accused indeed. I call forth Shandra Jerro!"

"Ah… the snake lives up to her name, I see," Sand said softly. Marcus just shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"What?" Shandra asked with surprise.

"Come now, Shandra... don't be afraid. We are in a court of law, you may speak freely here," Torio said smoothly.

"About what? About these false accusations?" Shandra asked, as she came forward, not even bothering hide her irritation.

"No, no... I am interested only in your interactions with the accused. You travel with him, do you not?" Torio asked.

"I do," Shandra admitted, suspicious of Torio's motives.

"Let me ask you a question. Have you ever observed the accused causing... or near... any acts that compare to the destruction at Ember?" Torio asked.

"No." Shandra said, ending the matter-- or so she thought.

"Not even your home?" Torio asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Shandra asked, taken aback. "Well... yes, but that was different, there were..."

"And wasn't your home attacked twice? And is now burned to the ground?" Torio asked, cutting her off.

Shandra let out a sigh. "Well, yes, but that was after..."

"Next time when I ask you a question, I want you to _answer_ it, Shandra, without..." Torio begin.

"Torio!" Nasher bellowed. "You've asked your witness a question _twice_ but you never let her finish. You _will_ let your witness answer as best as they can or Luskan will lose this trial by forfeit!" He was losing his patience with the Luskan woman rapidly. He turned to the farm girl. "Shandra, can you tell me what you were trying to say when the _Ambassador _was out of order?" Nasher asked. All Torio could do was fume quietly as Sand looked on smugly.

"Well, the first time my barn was burned down by lizard folk when I was talking to Marcus about the lizard folk attacks on Highcliff," Shandra said. "But I could have been talking to anyone and the result would have been the same, and if it wasn't for Marcus's help, Highcliff would still be plagued by the lizard folk."

"And on the second occasion?" Nasher asked.

"The second time was when I lost my home through my own stubbornness, it has to be said," Shandra admitted. "I was being attacked by githyanki, and then Marcus and his friends arrived to save me, but I was too stubborn to listen to him until the gith had burned my home down."

Nasher nodded, satisfied by Shandra's answer. As usual, Torio was trying to twist the truth to suit herself. Not in _his _court room! "You see, Torio, what was so hard about that?" Nasher asked pleasantly.

"I'm sorry, milord," Torio said before she turned back to Shandra. "You are safe here, and you need not fear the accused anymore. Because you see, what I am most concerned about, Shandra, is what you_ think,_ what you _really_ think of the accused. We know something of his activities in Neverwinter already, as well as the lands around. So think carefully before you answer." Torio said, trying to regain the ground she'd just lost. "Is he someone who might do such a thing?"

"No. He is a good and noble man, someone of great character, who cares about others. To hear him slandered like this makes me angry at the... injustice of it," Shandra stated firmly, her head held high in defiance.

"Angry enough to attack... to kill those who stand against the accused? I see," Torio said.

"_Ambassador,_ if I were you, I'd chose your words more _carefully,_ for it sounded to me like you were attempting to put words into the witness's mouth. Try_ that_ again and I will not look well upon it." Nasher spoke clearly but quietly, an indication of how annoyed he was getting with Torio's games.

Torio looked suitably chastised. She was aware she was pushing things to the edge and it was clear Lord Nasher had had enough of her word games. "I apologise, milord, as that was not my intent," she said as she turned back to Shandra. "Thank you for all your help, Shandra. I think this matter will soon be brought to a close."

"Oh, I hope you get what you deserve, _Ambassador_," Shandra said coldly.

"My dear, all_ I_ want is justice," Torio replied in a slightly mocking tone.

"Yeah… right," Shandra muttered as she walked back to her place and sat down.

"Are you finally finished with the amateur theatrics, Ambassador? Can we move this on, please?" Marcus asked, a cheeky smile on his face.

Torio did her best not to look offended. "Almost. You see, there's only one more I wish to speak to, and that is you."

Marcus didn't bat an eyelid, as he'd been expecting this. "Now there's a surprise. Took you long enough, Ambassador? But must we cloud this trial with more useless words and debate, when we all know this is pointless? Ambassador, you embarrass yourself," the harbourman said with the same cheeky smile.

"Indeed? I think you fear to face me, knowing that I can easily peel away your lies for what they are," Torio snapped, irritated.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Really? You think I'm scared of you… a _girl_?" the harbourman taunted. "If you wish to persist in the peel metaphor, Ambassador, then you had better be prepared to cry, once the onion has shed its skin."

"If this... mockery... is all we can expect from justice this day, so be it," Torio managed, getting frustrated.


	8. The Trial Part 2

"Very well, Ambassador. The accused may now present their witnesses," Nasher said, a small smile on his face. He'd enjoyed the harbourman humiliating Torio.

"May I? I have a brief opening speech with some cutting barbs prepared, but if you'd rather be found innocent as quickly as possible...?" Sand said as an aside to Marcus.

"Alright, Sand, go ahead, I'd like to hear this," Marcus replied with a grin.

Sand took a step forward and bowed. "Thank you, Reverend Judge, Lord Nasher, and fine people of Neverwinter. These allegations are a farce, my lord. I mean to show you the innocence of this man… a squire of Neverwinter… and the falsehood of the accusations against him. The evidence of the ambassador from Luskan is a transparent, ill-conceived ploy to destroy the life of one of Neverwinter's loyal servants," the moon elf said in a clear commanding voice. "Furthermore, the dress the ambassador is wearing is clearly out of fashion, a blatant attempt to distract the court from the matter at hand, and is more appropriate for a Docks prostitute than a diplomatic envoy. Thank you," Sand finished with a flourish and sat down, with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Squire indeed. The accused has only been a _squire_ for a short time, conveniently promoted _after_ the massacre of the people of Ember... perhaps as a reward?" Torio sniffed, deciding to let that last remark from Sand slide, and to concentrate on Marcus instead.

"Ambassador, you have had your say. Now it is time for the accused to speak," Nasher said coldly. He then looked at the moon elf. "And as for you, Sand, I would refrain from such accusations without first presenting proof." That was an unusually mild reprimand; he couldn't quite believe the wizard had been so open about teasing Torio.

"My lord, the difference is, in_ my_ statements can be found the truth," Sand replied, then looked around. "For our first witness, I summon Callum of the Neverwinter Nine... fresh from his victory over the vicious orc tribes in Old Owl Well." There was applause as the dwarf walked into the centre of the room. "Lord Callum, none can doubt your service and loyalty to Neverwinter, your successful defence of our sovereign lands. You have met the accused before, have you not?"

The dwarf nodded. "I have indeed. He was a great help to me in defeating the orc bands at Old Owl Well in earlier months. Were it not for his assistance, the Well would now be held by the orcs. The soldiers of Neverwinter and the realm itself owe a deep debt of gratitude to him, and it is a travesty that these foul charges have been levied against him."

Sand nodded. "Thank you, Lord Callum. We are ever grateful to hear the words of one of the Nine."

"Lord Callum, I have heard you express that the charges in this court are a travesty, and that they are unwarranted," Torio said, standing up.

"That is true, I feel the charges are unfounded," Callum replied with a curt nod.

"Is it because they are given by Luskan?" Torio asked quickly.

"Luskan has much to gain by casting down heroes of Neverwinter. Do I trust that Luskan brings such charges in good faith?" Callum said with some irritation. "I do not, nor do I trust your motives, Ambassador. There is a reason that low justice and high justice were divided by the Luskan-Neverwinter treaty, and I do not believe that any Luskan court or advocate has justice on their mind."

"But... you do know that the voice of the accused's counsel is from Luskan, do you not? From the ranks of the Hosttower of the Arcane before he fled?" Torio asked with surprise.

"That _banshee_...!" Sand cursed, under his breath.

"Sand, what in the hells is that witch talking about?" Marcus asked.

Sand looked embarrassed. "She must be getting desperate... now she's using the_ truth_." He cast a glance at the harbourman. "We can talk more about it later, but for now, it looks like we will need to salvage _both_ our reputations."

Callum smiled. "I'm fully aware of the history of the accused's counsel, Ambassador," the dwarf said, his eyes sparkling. "This matter concerns Ember... and whether the accused, who has sacrificed for Neverwinter on many occasions, merits such accusations. The origin of such charges… or slander on the counsel of the accused… has no bearing on the crime itself. I misspoke, but your behaviour here, Ambassador, only grants support to my words," Callum said coldly. "If there is nothing else...? I think we have all wasted enough time here," he said, before he walked out of the court room.

"Well that went better that I'd hoped," Sand said with relief. "Should have known that Callum knew; after all he's one of Nevalle's men," he muttered. "The accused calls Nya, resident of Port Llast," he called out loud. "Nya, you encountered the accused in Port Llast, did you not?" Sand asked the herbalist.

"That's correct. I remember the accused well," Nya replied with a nod.

"Well met again, Nya," Marcus said with a smile.

"And well met to you. It is good to see your face again. Even the circumstances are so grim," Nya replied happily.

"Could you tell us what happened when you met the accused?" Sand asked.

"I have been at Port Llast for the past season to help fortify the town's defence. Though my duties occupied all of my time, I was concerned about the unburied bodies in Ember. I knew from a... former acquaintance… a follower of Kelemvor, that after dying such violent deaths, it was possible they could arise as undead. But I could not see to them, and could not convince anyone to help, until the good squire and his friends came."

"What did we agree to do, Nya?" Marcus asked.

"The squire agreed to put the dead to eternal rest, or rather a friend of his did on his behalf, as he was talking with Haeromos at the time as I understand," Nya said.

"To hide the evidence, perhaps?" Torio asked with a snort. "This is meaningless."

"It shames me to hear you make light of such an important task, Ambassador," Marcus said with a deadly serious expression. "And to _hide the evidence_? Ambassador, the entire town was _murdered_, or have you forgotten that? Hiding the bodies in a mass grave isn't going to make the crime go away, now, is it?" he asked.

"Yes, it is a wonder that Nya was not killed as well," Torio replied, slightly smug.

The herbalist turned to face Torio. "Actually, Ambassador, the accused and those he travelled with had every opportunity to kill me... and easily, if they had chosen to do so," Nya said. "That, too, convinced me of the good nature of the accused. The true killer of Ember would have no doubt murdered me as well for attempting to interfere there... especially if I had uncovered any clues while attempting to bury the bodies."

Torio decided not to say anything else, otherwise she'd just dig herself in deeper. As it was, she was fairly certain she was going to have to revert to Plan B. And she was not that sure that even that might be successful.

"Now, Nya: you said you asked a friend of the accused to help and they agreed? Who was that? Is that person here?" Sand asked.

Nya looked around the court room and then smiled when she saw Serena stood near the back, next to Valen. "Yes, she is indeed here," Nya said. "It was that woman over by the doors who's standing next to the male tiefling," she said, pointing out the priestess who happily waved. Nya seemed to stand a little taller. "She is Grand Champion Serena Darkstar, Battle Priestess of Torm." It obviously had been a great honour for the humble herbalist to meet such a well know person of the realms.

Torio's face paled. She was sunk. "What's the matter, Torio, my dear?" Sand asked. "No questions to ask?" He turned to Nya. "Thank you, Nya; you may leave now." Sand cleared his throat. _This ought to make Torio cry, _he thought. "Unknown to all, there was _another_ survivor of the Ember massacre…." The moon elf wasn't disappointed with the look of shock on Torio's face. "A poor, frightened boy, who had to hide in a _well_ to prevent being slaughtered." Sand paused for dramatic effect. "How did he know to do such a thing? Why, Marcus has a gift... a gift of sight beyond sight… the gift of a seer. And he knew the murder would happen and the _true _identity of the killer." He paused again until Marcus walked in and mounted the witness stand. "Tell us what you saw, young Marcus... what you saw with your special gift," Sand asked.

The strange boy gave a shrug. "It was a man that killed the village. He was big, much bigger than a normal man. I don't know how you could be confused. Maybe he used a magic disguise... but disguises like that don't fool me." Suddenly Marcus spun round and pointed directly at Lorne. "That's the man who killed the village." The gasp from the court room was short and sharp.

Torio snorted. "What is this, a joke? You bring a child _seer_ onto the stand, ask him a question, and then have him_ lie_ for you?" she said.

"Then ask Marcus a question, Ambassador!" the harbourman challenged. "And we shall see who has the last laugh."

"Very well. If he has the power of a seer, then let us test it," Torio replied. "Marcus, what do I hold in my left hand?" she asked coldly.

The boy turned to face Torio and his eyes became unfocused. "Your left hand holds an iron ring, the ring of Garius, the Master of the Fifth Tower. You hold it tightly; as if afraid it will fly from you. Every time you touch the ring, you see how angry he becomes when one fails him, and you fear his ambition... it is a ring that is more of a chain than a piece of jewellery. And even more so, the ring reminds you of..."

"Enough!" Torio cut the boy off. "No more questions… it is a ring, nothing more, but the boy guessed correctly. A parlour trick, surely, but the rest is lies, of that be assured." With a sullen expression she faced Oleff. "No more questions, Reverend Judge."

"Then I shall call our next witness," Sand said with a smile as he turned slightly. "Shandra, please come forward."

"Sand... no!" the farm girl hissed.

"Sand, are you sure that's wise? Perhaps we should put in for a verdict?" Marcus asked. He didn't want Shandra to go through being humiliated by Torio again.

The moon elf shook his head. "No. She can help you, and she will," Sand said as he turned to Shandra. "My dear, get up if you wish to see Ember avenged." The wizard looked down appraisingly at her. "If you care about justice, then I assure you, this is one of those times when the actions of one can change the course of a nation," Sand said quietly.

"I... I... all right," Shandra said, resigned, as she stood and walked forward. "Go on, Sand, ask your questions."

"Shandra, you know the accused, have travelled with him, have you not?" the moon elf asked.

"I have," Shandra said with a nod, not sure where Sand was going with his question.

"And this crime of which he is accused? As one who knew the people of Ember... of Port Llast... do you really think him capable of such a crime?" Sand asked.

Shandra shook her head. "No, not at all. Look... don't get me wrong… trouble seems to come at his heels." She smiled ruefully. "But... it's _how _he deals with those troubles that makes me say no." The farm girl shrugged. "He... well, he keeps trying to make things right, even when things are at their worst. And it's really hard not to admire that… And stick by it, no matter what."

Sand smiled at the farm girl. "I think that says it all, Shandra, thank you." He then turned to face Nasher. "I have no more witnesses, Lord Nasher," he announced.

"The parties have spoken; now all that remains is judgment to be passed... Lord Nasher?" Oleff said.

"I expect Lord Nasher has already come to the correct decision," Torio taunted, trying to stay upbeat.

"I certainly hope so… it's evident this was a conspiracy to frame a loyal squire of Neverwinter as a criminal of the worst sort," Sand countered smoothly.

Nasher let out a loud sigh. "Silence, Sand! I have heard enough from you… and from you, Torio!" he snapped. "And it is enough for me to reach a decision." Nasher took a moment to rein in his anger. "The case before me was a difficult one... but it seems we know now the identity of Ember's attackers." Nasher turned to his right. "Nevalle, I want the ambassador, her retinue, and any remaining members of the Arcane Brotherhood of Luskan outside the city gates by nightfall!" he said coldly.

"What? This is no verdict… to think the _Brotherhood_ truly responsible..." Torio spluttered; Sand just smiled smugly.

Nasher exploded with anger. "You brought this case before _me_… now you debate _my_ verdict?!" His voice dropped low but the anger remained. "I would be _careful_ of where you point the sword when you draw it, Ambassador… and remind your_ masters_ in Luskan of that as well." Nasher paused. "I think we've wasted enough time on this. Justice has been done, and…"

"I claim the right of trial by combat," Torio said smugly, a cold smile on her face.

"Gods, I was hoping she didn't know about it," Sand said as he leaned forward, putting both arms on the table in front of him. The moon elf was distressed and disappointed with himself.

"Trial by combat?" Marcus asked with a frown. "What in Torm's name is going on, Sand?"

The wizard sighed. "It's on old custom. Either you or your accuser have the right to appeal to be found innocent by evoking the right of trial by combat. Torio must be desperate to do this. She's no fighter."

"Are these things… ever fatal?" Neeshka asked in a hushed voice as she put her arms around the harbourman.

"Very rarely, if ever," Casavir said. "There are strict rules that govern such duels," the paladin said, trying to ease the tiefling's worry.

"Usually I'd agree with you… but this is Luskan we're dealing with," Sand observed as, unsurprisingly, Lorne stepped forward to be Torio's champion. "It won't be an easy fight, Marcus, and I'd expect more than a few tricks," the moon elf warned.

"A champion has been declared. Both the defender and the accused are required by law to report to the Temple of Justice in Neverwinter to undergo the Rite of Tyr... to cleanse themselves in a night of prayer and vigilance. The following morning, the champions shall meet in combat so that justice may be decided." Oleff announced, as both Torio and Lorne made a hasty exit. They could feel the animosity of the court room directed at them.

"So be it. After the Rite is observed, the trial shall be held in the morning, upon the tourney grounds," Nasher said through clenched teeth. "Arm yourself and be ready, squire… or choose a champion to fight for you," he advised the harbourman. "Because, by the gods, we have not come all this way for justice to be denied in this final hour."

* * *

The court room had begun to empty so Serena, followed by Valen, walked over to where Marcus and his friends were still standing.

"I'm so sorry, Marcus, about that vile woman doing this to you…. Lord Nasher's hands are tied," Serena said sympathetically.

"Tell me about it," Marcus said turning to greet the priestess. "And this must be Valen?" he asked, nodding at the male tiefling. They hadn't had a chance to meet him yet as they'd all gotten back late from Port Llast the night before, though Duncan had said that both Serena and Valen had been in for dinner a couple of times.

"Indeed he is," Serena replied with a smile. "Valen, this is Marcus Cole and his girlfriend Neeshka. These are the two I wanted you to meet."

Valen shook hands first with Marcus, then Neeshka, but almost as soon as he'd taken the other tiefling's hand, Valen's blue eyes grew in size and he let go and took a step back. "She is baatezu!" he exclaimed.

Neeshka looked bewildered. "Huh?" she asked. "I'm what?"

Valen bowed slightly. "Forgive me, Neeshka. You are of baatezu descent, 'devil' in Common, whereas I am of tanar'ri descent, from demons," he said, embarrassed. "It is the ages old Blood War, I am afraid. It seems I will never be free from it."

"Valen, you have nothing to be ashamed about," Serena reminded him. "That was not your doing."

"Blood War?" Neeshka asked, confused.

"If you do not know about it, count yourself lucky," Valen said darkly. "It is the ages old conflict between demons and devils. That, however, does not excuse my reaction to you. Your baatezu blood is strong and I felt it easily."

"How strong?" Sand asked thoughtfully.

"Strong enough that I could easily detect it," Valen replied, "but if I had to guess, I would say whoever Neeshka's devilish ancestor is, he would have to a be a higher order devil, say a pit fiend?"

Marcus and Neeshka exchanged a look at this. "You don't think that pit fiend we encountered? He could… you know?" the tiefling asked.

The harbourman shrugged. "I don't know, Neesh, I just don't know."

Sir Grayson had walked up to his squire's group but hung back a little so as not to intrude. He was amazed at the young harbourman's ability to draw allies to him and make friends, as this was the first time that Sir Grayson seen them all together. To have a high ranking paladin of Tyr as well as a very high ranking priestess of Torm among your inner circle was something to see.

"The news of Neeshka's possible ancestry explains much," Casavir said slowly. "I have noticed a marked change in her behavior, and it all cannot be attributed to her relationship with Marcus, though that has helped."

"Huh, what do you mean, Casbear?" Neeshka asked. Even Marcus raised an eyebrow in question at the paladin.

"Devils are by their nature lawful, whereas demons are more chaotic," the paladin explained, smiling at the use of Neeshka's name for him. "You, Neeshka, have been, over the past few months, showing more and more lawful tendencies. Partly, no doubt, due to the influence of those around you, particularly Marcus, but also you are simply growing up and your baatezu blood is beginning to make its presence known," Casavir said.

Neeshka rested her head on the harbourman's shoulder as she thought about what Casavir had said. "Huh, you know, you might just be right, Casbear," she said. "I mean, I feel more sure of myself than I have done in years, and I still get to pick locks, disarm traps and occasionally nick stuff," the tiefling said with a grin.

"The reason you feel more sure of yourself, Neeshka, my dear, is that you've been learning discipline and control," Sand said. "Your sorceress powers have been a part of you all your life even though they were wrongly suppressed. They were always just below the surface, wanting to get free, and now they are, as you are aware of them, can use them and shape them to your will," the wizard explained.

Marcus nodded his agreement with the moon elf. "He's right, you know, Neesh, even after Sand's first lesson you seemed as if a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders." Then the harbourman smiled playfully. "Once a rogue, always a rogue. Not that I mind, as I love you just the way you are. I love you for you, Neesh, never forget that, sweetheart."

Neeshka blushed a little and looked away. "You can't mean that, harbour boy. You're a squire now and you'll be a knight someday, maybe."

"Neesh, I do mean it," Marcus said as he turned her face to look at him. "Remember what Serena said? Screw the nobility and just be ourselves?" he said, looking into her big red eyes. "It's not like I'm ever going to be a member of the Nine, you know. And Nasher wants you as his new spymaster, so you can't get much better approval than that, I'd say."

"I guess so," Neeshka said. "Not used to all this, though. I just want the stuff with Luskan out the way," she said worriedly.

"We had better return to the Flagon and inform your uncle of what has happened here," Elanee said. "Then you, Marcus, had better get to the Hall of Justice."


	9. Rite of Tyr

"Are you ready for the Rite of Tyr?" Prior Hlam asked as Marcus walked up to him.

"Yes," Marcus said. "Incidentally, what is the Rite of Tyr exactly?" he asked.

"It is a cleansing ritual of prayer that is held in seclusion here within the Hall of Justice," Hlam explained. "By purifying one's mind and reflecting on one's deeds, sometimes it allows one to achieve the clarity needed to avoid bloodshed in a trial by combat by admitting one's guilt..." The prior smiled a little knowingly, "Although I do not believe that will happen this night. It is Neverwinter law, and it must be upheld. You must complete the rite and prepare yourself for battle against your accuser in the morning."

"Hold a moment, this Rite of Tyr can wait. I haven't had _my _say yet." They both turned to see Khelgar marching up to them through the doors of the Temple.

"What are you doing here, Khelgar?" Marcus asked as he turned to the dwarf.

"Why am I _here_? Well, it's because I want to take your place," Khelgar said as if it were obvious. "That... Torio, she's got you matched up with a Luskan-trained killer! There's no justice in that little viper suddenly bringing a bear out of nowhere to fight you!" the dwarf cried, annoyed. "Let _me_ fight him. He's a... a... dog, not even worthy of you! He fights like a Luskan fights, through daggers in the back, poisoned daggers even!" Then the dwarf frowned. "I mean... you've shown me that you can win a battle through words, and it may have opened my eyes a _little_, just a little, but seems to me we tried the wordplay, and now the real fight's here."

"Why are you so upset, Khelgar? What's got you all worked up all of a sudden?" Marcus asked with a frown.

"Because it's not _fair_, that's why!" Khelgar cried. "I don't mind a fight for fight's sake, but this 'crime' they've accused you of, the slaughter of an entire village... It's _more_ than just a fight... It's..." Khelgar said angrily, becoming lost for words.

"You feel it is unjust." Hlam said quietly.

Khelgar exploded with pent-up fury. "You're damned right it's unjust! This isn't just a fight, by the gods, this is honour, and fairness, and the lives of you and those people of Ember who were slaughtered!" he said, enraged. "After _all_ you went through, all the searching for clues and those poor villagers... to lay it all on your head... by the gods, I _want_ to fight him! I'll show him justice!" Khelgar bellowed.

"You are allowed to choose a champion. Do you wish this one to take your place?" Hlam asked. "You must still undergo the Rite of Tyr, but when Lorne emerges on the field tomorrow, it shall be this one who fights in your stead," Hlam reminded the harbourman.

Marcus considered it for a moment, but dismissed it just as quickly. As honoured as he was by Khelgar asking to fight in his place, this was something Marcus knew he had to do himself. "You honour me with the offer, Khelgar, but I must face Lorne myself," he sighed. "He is… _was _a harbourman. I have a promise to fulfil. His mother Retta wants to know what became of her oldest son. Facing him is the only way to do that," Marcus said at last.

Khelgar nodded. "All right... but... look. That Lorne fellow, he carries himself like a warrior. He's dangerous... so... just... be careful," he said.

"Of that, Khelgar, you need not doubt, for I fully intend to walk out of the tourney grounds intact," Marcus smiled. "And anyway, I don't think Neesh would forgive me for anything less."

That made the dwarf grin. "Aye, lad, you're right about that. Your lass would likely kill you herself if you let that happen." Then Khelgar turned and walked away, and Marcus followed Prior Hlam to the meditation chamber.

The meditation chamber in the Hall of Justice was what you might expect, very spartan, with few furnishings and, in this case, dominated by a statue of Tyr.

"Here you will remain until we come for you in the morning. Gaze upon the face of Tyr, and let him gaze upon you... if you are true to your word and deeds, then you need not fear his judgment," Hlam said calmly. "You are permitted visitors during this time, for often, justice does not solely lie in the words and deeds of the accused and you may gain truth from the words of those closest to you. We will return for you on the morrow," Prior Hlam said as he left the harbourman to his thoughts. It was going to be a long night.

About an hour had passed before Marcus had his first visitor. "So, quiet enough for you?" Sand asked. "I mean, now that Khelgar is done ranting. I heard it from several streets away," the wizard said, as he walked to where the harbourman stood, "Actually helped me find this place. I hope you don't mind if I come in here and start just speaking my mind. Otherwise, this place would seem awfully dull." The moon elf smiled slightly.

Marcus smiled. "What's on your mind, Sand?" he asked.

Sand looked thoughtful. "I must say, I didn't expect that we would be able to force Torio's hand like this. Trial by combat is a rather desperate manoeuvre, quite unlike her," he observed. "It's really rather quite pleasing. And if you were to beat Lorne... well, that would make me simply ecstatic. I could help, you know."

Marcus quirked an eyebrow. _Just what was the moon elf suggesting anyway?_ he thought. "I would certainly welcome any help you can provide, Sand, as long as it's within the rules of the duel, of course."

"Here, take these," Sand said as he passed him a collection of potion bottles. "It's a few special concoctions I whipped up to help you tomorrow, should Lorne decide to poison, cheat, or simply give you several gaping chest wounds. And, uh, no need for thanks, it would just be embarrassing. Let me leave you to it," the wizard said, as he turned to walk out of the chamber.

Marcus just smiled; he knew he'd liked Sand for a reason.

Sand suddenly stopped and turned back to the harbourman. "But... There is one last thing. Our friend Torio... I think she's rather close to breaking. It's what happens when one is tied to an ill-conceived plan... as I once felt," the wizard said. "And I think Torio is one who prefers to be on the winning side, worth thinking about, especially if she is at our mercy later." The wizard turned to walk out of the meditation chamber.

"Sand, so were you at the Hosttower of Luskan, as Torio said?" Marcus asked before the moon elf could walk out of the meditation chamber.

Sand sighed as he turned back to the harbourman. "There is no denying it, is there?" he asked. "There was a time I dwelled amongst the towers of Luskan, yes. For anyone interested in arcane knowledge, the masters of the towers have an impressive collection of artefacts," the wizard admitted. "But... simply being in their employ is not enough. And the things requested can even make the greatest of artefacts pale by comparison," Sand said as he looked at the harbourman. "And one day, I simply could not continue to do what I did. The smallest refusal and one is marked for death... So I came to Neverwinter and sought protection here. I moved my shop down to the Docks in the hopes of avoiding notice. But as you well know, Nasher and the Nine are well aware of my past."

"So, did you have any dealings with this Black Garius?" Marcus asked.

Sand tapped his chin. "No, not really, but the name is familiar… I believe he was once a low level wizard of the Hosttower of the Arcane, but to have him rise so high, so quickly..." the moon elf shook his head, "...he must have gained a powerful patron, indeed. He was cunning and had skill with the craft, but not enough to warrant this. I did not know him well, but the mere fact he has risen to power so quickly cannot mean he has a stable power base," Sand observed. "And it must mean he made many enemies. Such enemies may reveal themselves if we seek to stop him… and they will become our allies." The wizard frowned. "Yet, I find it strange he would be Luskan's ally in all this... Luskan seems so short-sighted, and Garius's horizon is broad indeed, and he was never one to put the city's concerns first… nor were any of the mages of the Hosttower, for that matter," Sand said with a roll of his eyes. "No, I think Garius is acting on his own, but why and to what end? That's one question I almost don't want the answer to. Good night." This time the moon elf walked out of the meditation chamber.

"Good night, Sand," Marcus said to his retreating back.

Pondering the mystery that was Sand kept Marcus occupied until the woman he'd been waiting for arrived.

"Hey, you. Just thought I'd swing by. Thought I'd check out the meditation chamber, big statue," Neeshka said in a playful tone. "And by the way, don't look for the donation box, there isn't any… and, you know, just wanted make sure everything was safe, that you were safe," she said, a little subdued.

"Why is it, Neesh, that all you can seem to think about is your coin purse?" Marcus asked with a smile as he patted the seat next to him. "You can stay a while if you like, Neesh. You brighten this place up no end."

The tiefling grinned. "Thought you'd never ask and I'd like to, but this place is making me itch, like being around Casavir too long," she said as she walked to sit next to her boyfriend.

"And this is a surprise to you, Neesh?" the harbourman asked. "We're in the middle of a temple undergoing a Holy Rite. I wish there was something I could do," Marcus said affectionately.

"Hold me, Marcus," Neeshka said in a soft voice "You can hold me."

"I think I can manage that, sweetheart," Marcus said as he pulled Neeshka into a hug. "What's got you all stressed? I've never felt you so tense," he remarked, worried.

"What do you think?" Neeshka asked. "The duel tomorrow. I'm really scared that, well…. You're not going to walk out of there. I don't want to lose you, you know?" she said softly.

"Oh, Neesh," Marcus said, kissing the top of each of her horns. "I have to do this, you know that. And I'll be fine. As I keep telling you, I'm hard to kill," he said with a smile.

That managed to elicit a smile. "Yeah, maybe, but I won't be watching your back like normal, you know." Then Neeshka seemed to get an idea. "We could just slip out of here and run away. Just the two of us," she said slyly.

The harbourman raised an eyebrow. "That, sweetheart, is a seriously tempting offer. But I can't, and you know it. And where, pray tell, would we run away to?" Marcus asked.

Neeshka shrugged. "Dunno… Baldur's Gate? Daggerford? They're far enough that no one would look for us there."

Marcus looked at her and he realised she truly meant it. "You're deadly serious about this, aren't you?" he asked. "This isn't just some rash idea. You've thought about this and seriously. Now, what I want to know is why."

"I'd have thought it was obvious," Neeshka said with a slight smile. "I… I love you and I don't want to lose you. Not fighting that brute Lorne. I'll do almost anything to keep you safe… even if it means running away." The tiefling was trying to fight back tears. "You're the best thing to happen to me in years, and I'm going to keep you. I love you, Marcus Cole," she said through the hot tears that streamed down her face.

Marcus was stunned and speechless. His brain was having a hard time wrapping itself round what he'd just heard. "Neesh," Marcus said gently; she looked up, her eyes a little puffy from crying. "That means more to me than you'll know… and even more reason to face Lorne tomorrow. He will _not_ separate us, I swear to you. With Torm's strength and Tyr's justice, Lorne will face rightful judgment for what happened at Ember," Marcus promised his lady.

"I know," Neeshka said softly. "And that's what really scares me. I know this is about Ember, and Luskan trying to frame you and all. I'm not used to something this big. If things get too hot, I just skip town. That's why I want to run away. Old defences kicking in." Neeshka looked Marcus in the eyes. "But you. You're different. You'll face Lorne as it's the _right _thing to do. You've sworn an oath to serve Lord Nasher and Neverwinter; it's your _duty_ to fight Lorne in the duel." Neeshka nodded slowly as if she were realising something important. "That's what I find really scary. The man I love and want to keep safe will _always_ do his duty and what's right, even it means he faces his own death. That's what terrifies me." She couldn't keep the tears in any longer and she just let go.

What could Marcus say to that? He didn't think there was anything he could, so he simply pulled Neeshka onto his lap, as he knew she'd not be leaving the temple until morning. After a while, Marcus managed to get her calm enough that she fell asleep in his arms. Marcus was content to fulfil the rest of the Rite of Tyr with the woman he loved in his arms, sleeping soundly. As the harbourman rested his chin lightly on Neeshka's head, he wasn't sure how Prior Hlam would react to it… much less Tyr himself.

About a half hour passed before Hlam arrived to escort Neeshka out. Marcus turned his head slightly to look at him. Hlam stood about three feet from the harbourman, his steady gaze watching him and the woman sleeping soundly in his arms. After a while, his gaze turned to the statue of Tyr…

Eventually Hlam's gaze fell on Marcus again. "I will leave you to fulfil the Rite of Tyr. See you on the morrow, Squire," Hlam said, in his ever calm voice, then he turned and walked away.

As Marcus turned back to face the statue of Tyr, he couldn't help but smile as he rested his chin atop of Neeshka's head once again. All seemed right in the harbourman's world… for a few hours anyway. And there was something different about the chamber, too. It was subtle almost as if… _As if Tyr were watching over them_. It was a very sobering thought for Marcus.

All too soon, or so it seemed to the young harbourman, morning had come and Marcus could hear footsteps. It was probably Prior Hlam, Sir Nevalle and maybe Sir Grayson… to take him to the tourney grounds to face Lorne.

"I must advise you that the Squire is not alone," Hlam said quietly, standing just outside the door. "His lady joined him during the Rite and Tyr himself allowed her to remain."

"Yes?" said Sir Grayson thoughtfully. "His lady's name is Neeshka, if memory serves."

There was a longer than polite pause, and then Nevalle spoke. "You mean the… tiefling?" The tone of his voice suggested that Nevalle was scandalised, and quite horrified that a member of the nobility would have anything to do with such a person.

"And this comes as shock to you, Nevalle?" Grayson said, amused. "I thought you were more observant than that, old friend. They haven't exactly kept it secret. Not with all the tales going around the city. And didn't you see how they acted _after_ the trial?" Grayson was clearly having fun at the other knight's expense. What he was making fun of, Marcus wasn't certain. Was it Nevalle's arrogance, stupidity or racial bias? Or all three? _Take your pick_, Marcus thought.

It was time for Marcus to wake his sleeping beauty. He gently shook Neeshka and she stirred. "Hey, sleepyhead," he said, as she stretched and yawned.

"Huh? Wha... where am I?" Neeshka asked sleepily, looking around.

"You're in the meditation chamber in the Hall of Justice," Marcus said. "You came to visit me during the Rite of Tyr, do you remember, sweetheart?" he asked.

The tiefling nodded, as she clearly remembered their very intense conversation, though she'd done most of the talking. "But weren't you meant to be alone?" Neeshka asked.

Marcus smiled. "It seems we got approval from on high."

Neeshka's eyes grew huge. "You don't mean…" she said, glancing at the statue.

Marcus nodded. "That's who I mean. Tyr himself allowed you to remain," he said. "Now we have to part. It's almost time for me to face Lorne, and time you got back to the others before they notice you're missing. I wouldn't be at all surprised if Khelgar, Casavir or even Sand figured out where you've been all night," he said with a smile.

Neeshka nodded. "Okay, but I still don't like the idea of you facing Lorne, you know?" she said.

"I know you don't," Marcus said. "But I'll do what I have to, for both the woman I love and the Lord I'm sworn to serve," he said. _Take that, Sir Nevalle. I__'__m not ashamed of Neeshka, or my love for her, _Marcus thought.

"And that's what terrifies me," Neeshka said softly, then she did something not totally unexpected; she leaned in and kissed Marcus. But it was the _passion_ with which she did so that drove almost every rational thought from his mind.

When they finally parted, both were breathing a little heavily. Neeshka just smiled at Marcus, and then got off his lap and walked past Prior Hlam and the two knights, her head held high. The harbourman stood and turned to see their reactions. Hlam had an eyebrow raised, but other than that, it was hard to tell what he was thinking. Sir Grayson was looking a little amused at what he'd just seen play out in front of him. And as for Sir Nevalle… he had to have the best poker face that Marcus had ever seen, but he did look just a little uncomfortable.

"It's time. Torio... and Lorne... await us on the field." Marcus had to give Nevalle his due; he was showing no signs of being rattled by what he'd just seen. "Nasher wished me to communicate to you the importance of the coming battle, both for you, and for Neverwinter itself." The knight paused a moment. "For too long has Luskan's Arcane Brotherhood had free passage in Neverwinter. This trial is a means by which their presence here can be removed. What happened at Ember was a terrible crime, and they are responsible, of that we are certain. Fight Lorne, defeat him, and you will prevent Neverwinter from sharing Ember's fate at Luskan hands. Succeed in this, and Nasher has promised to grant you your own land and a noble title, if you so wish it," Nevalle explained.

The last part made Marcus want to grin like a madman. He knew that, in time, he'd have earned the right to be knighted. But to be given such a hint by Lord Nasher that a knighthood might be sooner rather than later was amazing, if a little daunting. Not only that, but Lady Neeshka Cole was something the harbourman could really get used to hearing. But that was something for another day. "With Torm's strength and Tyr's justice, Lorne, Torio, and Luskan will face rightful judgment for Ember this day. Of that I swear," Marcus said solemnly.

"Very well. I can ask for no more. The tourney grounds await," Nevalle replied as he led Marcus from the meditation chamber, with Sir Grayson and Prior Hlam following.

"This is a great honour," Sir Grayson said, "To be able to lay down your life for your homeland." Grayson then smiled. "And the woman you love. You should savour this moment."

The harbourman frowned. _Savour it? I__'__m not sure about that,_ Marcus thought. _But I__'__ll do what I have to._


	10. Trial by Combat

"You know, at times like this, I feel like your squire," Shandra said offhandedly, looking out across the tourney grounds before turning back to help Marcus with his armour.

Marcus grinned. "I didn't know a squire could have a squire of their own. What would Sir Nevalle say?" he asked, amused.

Shandra smiled at that. "You sure about this?" she asked. The farm girl knew how much stress this whole ordeal had put the harbourman and everyone else, especially Neeshka, under. "It's not too late to choose someone else to fight for you. Not like I don't have faith in you, or anything." Somehow her last sentence didn't seem that convincing.

Bishop smiled evilly. "So you changed your mind, eh, farm girl? After all that terrible crying last night and that phrase you kept saying, what was, it now... 'I don't see how he can possibly'..." he said sarcastically.

"Bishop!" Shandra growled at the ranger.

"Sorry. Did I say that?" Bishop replied innocently, not looking innocent at all.

Casavir shook his head, as he had arrived just in time to hear Bishop being his usually charming self. The paladin had been at the Hall of Justice the previous night, praying to Tyr that all would go well for Marcus. He had fully intended to visit the harbourman afterward but Casavir had seen Neeshka arrive, so instead he had returned to the Flagon. This had proved to be the right thing to have done, as he had seen the tiefling arrive at the Flagon early this morning looking somewhat rumpled. It wasn't hard to work out where Neeshka had spent the night.

Marcus blinked. He wasn't sure what he found the more worrying, Shandra getting all emotional or Bishop revealing the fact. "Were you that worried about me?" the harbourman asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but I wasn't _crying_. I haven't cried since I was a girl, and even then only when peeling onions," Shandra replied, trying to deny most of what Bishop had said.

Marcus smiled reassuringly. "I swore an oath to serve Neverwinter, Shandra. Now I _will_ to honour it," he said, matter of fact. Bishop just snorted at that and muttered something about a paladin in training which earned him a glare from Casavir.

"Gods, you're frustrating. Fine. Go on, see if you can move all of Faerûn while you're at it," Shandra said, rolling her eyes.

"Marcus, I'm glad I got a chance to speak to you," Casavir said, making his presence known. "I know something of knightly combat, more so than Lorne, I suspect. Are you familiar with the etiquette of the duel?"

Marcus shook his head. "No, not really, Casavir, nothing beyond the basics," he replied.

"Very well, do not yield to Lorne. If there is a chance you can still win, keep fighting, for Lorne will not accept your surrender," Casavir said gravely. "Any weapons or spells are permitted in the arena as each combatant is expected to fight to the best of their ability, with all the resources at their disposal," the paladin explained. "There is no doubt that Lorne's strength is in close combat. As such, there is no dishonour in keeping him beyond arm's reach if you can." Casavir was silent for several moments. "I know you intend to face Lorne yourself, Marcus. May Tyr guide your blade, and may the people of Ember grant strength to your weapon," the paladin said solemnly. "This is a ritual flask. It will heal you and also convey a blessing upon you. Use it today and it will have served its purpose, for it was intended to be used in such a duel as this."

"Thank you, Casavir," Marcus replied, taking the offered flask. "It's good to know I can use what spells I know."

"Hey, you," Neeshka said softly from behind the harbourman.

"Hey yourself," Marcus replied just as softly as he turned to face her. If he didn't know better, he'd say she'd been crying again. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"You know me; got to make sure you're safe," Neeshka said as she glanced at Bishop and Shandra. "And I don't trust the ranger, or the farm girl."

Marcus smiled. "Still jealous of Shandra, are we?" he said playfully. Neeshka just gave him her classic 'who me?' look. "Yes, you," the harbourman said. "Anyone would think we're married with the way you act at times, sweetheart."

Neeshka snorted. "Like_ that__'__ll _ever happen."

Marcus' eyes sparkled. "Don't know about that… one day perhaps," he said wistfully as he noticed one of Nasher's guards signalling him. "It's time. Honour and duty calls, Neesh. I'll return to you once this is over. I swear." Then Marcus turned and walked toward the tourney ground entrance.

"You'd better," Neeshka said softly. "I love you," she whispered as she watched Marcus marching into the arena to face Lorne.

* * *

_So it__'__s come down to this, has it?_ Marcus thought dismally. _I must face another harbourman in single combat. A sad day, indeed. The sadder thing is what drove Lorne to this path. Why did he never return after the war with Luskan? And what in Torm__'__s name do I tell Retta? _he thought as he walked out to face Lorne Starling.

"Is the accuser or her champion here?" Lord Nasher asked from where he sat, overseeing proceedings in his private box.

"We are here," Lorne replied angrily.

"Is the accused or his champion here?" Lord Nasher asked.

Marcus turned to face Nasher's private box. "I am here, my lord. For the honour of Neverwinter and those lost at Ember," he said as he bowed before turning back to face Lorne.

"Why did you never come back to West Harbour after the war, Lorne? Your mother still wonders about your fate, what became of her oldest son?" Marcus asked.

"What would you know of my mother?" Lorne growled.

"Enough; I'm friends with your younger brother, Bevil," Marcus said. "Retta often told us how proud of you she was when you went off to fight for Neverwinter, but she worried terribly when you never came home. She even asked Cormick to see if he could find anything, but he never did." At the mention of the Marshal's name, Marcus saw something in Lorne's eyes but it was gone too fast.

"Shut up! Just for that, I'm gonna carve my name into your hide while you still breathe," Lorne hissed.

Marcus sighed. "So be it, Lorne," he said grimly. "You turned your back on West Harbour, on Neverwinter. You are a Harbourman no more." _Retta, please forgive me, he leaves me no choice._

As Lorne and Marcus walked to their starting marks, Judge Oleff began his speech. "What takes place in the field here today shall resolve the crime of the razing of the village of Ember and the death of its people. Torio Claven, ambassador of Luskan, has accused one in the service of Neverwinter, and has called for a trial by combat to resolve the matter. Acting on her behalf is her champion, Lorne, who will fight in her stead." And as unceremoniously as that, the duel began.

_This is not going to be an easy fight at all_, Marcus thought to himself. _Lorne is far larger than me and that falchion he__'__s wielding would hurt a lot if it were to connect, something I plan on avoiding as much as I can._

Lorne charged at Marcus and brought his weapon down as if he were trying to split the harbourman in two like a piece of wood. However, Marcus saw it coming and dodged to the left, scoring a hit of his own. Lorne, faster than Marcus gave him credit for, swung his weapon around, smashing the flat of it into the harbourman's back.

Marcus recovered, wincing a little, and turned to attack Lorne again, but when he did, Marcus realised that Lorne was in some sort of barbarian rage which was going to make hitting him a waste of time. Lorne didn't even seem to realise where he was any longer, so enraged was he. He charged at Marcus like a maddened bull, bellowing and sweeping his falchion in great arcs that had the harbourman dodging to and fro.

Marcus spent what seemed like the next twenty minutes staying out of Lorne's way, which he did successfully most of the time, putting the larger man in an even fouler mood. The fight didn't all go Marcus's way however, as Lorne was able to get a few blows in, one in particular which shredded the armour on his upper left arm and gave Marcus with a nasty gash down to the bone, and made him drop his shield.

The harbourman quickly backed off and downed the ritual flask that Casavir had given him. Marcus soon felt its healing effects for which he was grateful. While he waited for Lorne's rage to wear off, Marcus was able to retrieve his shield from where it had fallen.

When Lorne's rage finally did wear off he seemed dazed and exhausted, and Marcus knew to take full advantage. The warrior turned mage cast a number of magic missiles in quick succession which sent the dazed Lorne reeling as he was blasted by magical energy, until he fell to his knees, defeated.

Marcus grinned at the downed brute as he raised his longsword to finish it once and for all… then he checked himself, blinked and took several paces back before sheathing his weapon. "You've lost, Lorne," Marcus said, as he realised that he'd almost became what Lorne was, a murderer.

"Do you think you've won?" Lorne growled, looking up at Marcus.

"I don't think, Lorne, I _know_," Marcus said. "When you next see your master Garius, tell him if he wants the shards he can come and_ try_ and get them himself, as I look forward to removing his thorn from my side _permanently_," the harbourman said grimly, blue eyes blazing cold fire.

Marcus then turned to face Lord Nasher's private box and bowed. Lorne staggered to his feet, realising that both he and Torio had failed spectacularly. Lorne turned and left the tourney ground defeated. The duel was over and Marcus Cole, squire of Neverwinter, was the victor.

* * *

Marcus heard a shout from behind him and the sound of running feet. He looked over his shoulder to see what was happening but that only made Marcus turn fully around at the sight he saw. He couldn't help but grin. Neeshka had jumped clear over the wall at the edge of the tournament ground and was coming toward Marcus at a dead run, with two of Nasher's guards after her, but she had too much of a head start. Neeshka was far more worried than Marcus could have suspected.

The harbourman could see what was going to happen so he opened his arms, and once Neeshka was close enough she leaped into them, wrapping her legs around the harbourman's waist and putting her arms around his neck. Marcus encircled her in his arms. The momentum of Neeshka's impact spun them around as they kissed passionately. Marcus could feel the tension slowly drain from her body; Neeshka was also shaking slightly as well. Marcus's rather preoccupied brain was vaguely aware of Lord Nasher calling off his guards. And the crowd… cheering? Neeshka at last untangled herself from the harbourman.

"You have to be the brashest, most brazen, impulsive, infuriatingly frustrating… and loveable woman I've ever met," Marcus said, slightly breathless, their foreheads touching. "So are you trying to tell me you were just a little worried, Neesh?" he asked, stroking her cheek.

"Yeah, I guess," Neeshka said, looking flushed. "I'm glad you're safe."

Marcus smiled. "I've told you before, Neesh, I'm hard to kill." She just smiled back at him, her eyes shining. "You do realise you've put us both in an awkward position?" he asked, teasing her a little.

"Huh? What? Why?" Neeshka asked, mystified.

"I'm going to have to present you to Lord Nasher. After your rather spectacular entrance, I can't do anything else. It would be very poor manners not to," Marcus said with a grin.

"Hells, hells, hells," Neeshka said, looking away. "Never thought of that."

The harbourman grinned wickedly. "I did say 'impulsive', didn't I? And he wasn't the only one watching. So was half of Neverwinter. Have you no shame, woman?" Marcus asked.

Neeshka blushed the loveliest shade of red Marcus had ever seen. "I thought not," he said affectionately. "So are you ready to be presented to your lord, my lady?" Neeshka just nodded, looking bashful. Marcus wasn't really surprised after the stunt she'd just pulled.

They both turned to face Lord Nasher, holding hands. He looked bemused by the whole thing. Oleff had a slight smile on his face. Torio just looked ill. As for Sir Callum, he was grinning, and Sir Nevalle was doing a very good impression of a stone statue.

"And whom do we have here, Squire?" Lord Nasher asked, the amusement evident though he knew full well who the tiefling was.

"My lord, may I present to you Neeshka, a very dear friend of mine," Marcus said.

"Greetings to you, my lady," Nasher said.

'Thank you, my lord," Neeshka replied, bowing, hoping she was doing the right thing. Nasher nodded his approval.

"As I was about to say when the celebrations started a little early..." Nasher began. At that Neeshka blushed and the crowd laughed. "Justice has been served. My judgment passed at the trial shall now take effect, as was intended. The Arcane Brotherhood of Luskan is to leave the city of Neverwinter within three days time, and they are not to be permitted within our walls again, by royal decree. The possessions of the champion of the Luskan ambassador, Lorne, are to become the property of the accused." Nasher stopped a moment to speak something to Torio in a low voice and by the pale look on her face it couldn't have been anything good. "To the accused, I believe you are in need of a well-deserved rest. Please return to the Sunken Flagon. That is a command from your Lord, soldier of Neverwinter."

"As you wish, my lord," Marcus said, as he and Neeshka bowed. With that they turned, still hand in hand, and walked out of the tournament grounds to the cheers and applause of the crowd.

* * *

Black Garius was not a happy man. In fact, he was very upset. Before him stood both Torio and Lorne.

"Word of the trial came to me faster than you did," Garius said coldly. "It would have been wiser for both of you not to have come at all."

"Forgive us, Master Garius. He proved more... capable than we had expected," Torio said, bowing her head a little.

"In an open field, without the... mockery of this trial, I would have run him through. His head would lie on a pike outside this Keep, for all to see," Lorne said angrily.

"Indeed," Garius said with a raised eyebrow. "I think it is_ you_ who does not see, Lorne." Garius made a motion with his hands, and suddenly Lorne was screaming; his body was torn apart as it burst into flame.

Then silence. Torio looked, horrified, at the remains of Lorne's corpse next to her. Garius started advancing on Torio, forcing her to back up, frightened, making her fear she was next.

"Ember destroyed, the time wasted with this trial ... I _trusted_ you, Torio," Garius hissed, disgusted; he definitely was thinking about killing her, too. "Brutes like Lorne... they swarm the Luskan streets in hundreds, thousands, but _you_..."

"Master... Garius... the one we seek, he still has the shards, they are in his possession..." Torio said, almost begging for her life. Garius paused and looked at Torio. The mention of shards had calmed him slightly. "They can still be retrieved. Tell me what to do, I shall _do_ it."

"_Do_…? You are to do _nothing_. And you are to_ say_ nothing… especially to our _ally_," Garius said angrily. "The shards are out of my reach... for now. But I have almost all I need for the ritual," he mused quietly, seeming to forget about Torio. "And when that is done, I shall need our ally no longer. I shall not need _anyone_." Garius looked up. "Leave me, Torio," he said with a sigh.

Torio turned to walk out, passing Lorne's body on the floor as she did. "At... once, Master Garius," she said in a hushed voice as the realisation hit home that Garius was eventually going to kill her as he had Lorne. Torio knew her only hope was to return to Neverwinter and hope Lord Nasher didn't hang her.

* * *

Nasher Alagondar, Lord of Neverwinter, sat at his desk, still trying to understand what he'd witnessed earlier in the day at the tournament grounds, after his newest squire had defeated the Luskan champion. If someone had told him of the events, he doubted he would have believed them. But he had witnessed it with his own two eyes and that could not be denied. That was why he had summoned three of his closest aides, for they had seen what he had and maybe would be able to offer some perspective on it.

A knock sounded on Nasher's office door. "Enter," he said.

The door opened and Sir Nevalle, Sir Callum and Judge Oleff entered. "You wished to see us, Lord Nasher?" Nevalle said.

"Indeed I did, Nevalle," Nasher said. "You were all present at the trial by combat. What do you make of the events following the Luskan's defeat?"

"Can't say I'm that surprised," remarked Sir Callum. "Not after seeing them together in Old Owl Well."

"Oh? It was obvious even then?" inquired Nasher, intrigued.

Callum shook his head. "No, not really. But it was clear to me there was _something_ between them. All the times I saw them, she was never far from his side. Even when Casavir joined them and I knew she must be very uncomfortable being so close to a paladin… she still would not leave."

"Interesting," Nasher said, and then he looked at Oleff. "They helped you with the Tomb of the Betrayers, did they not?" he asked.

"Indeed they did, Lord Nasher. I was surprised by how much influence he had with her. I made them swear not to interfere with the tombs before I'd allow them to enter." Oleff smiled. "She, being a thief, was not happy about that situation. However, the way the squire handled it was masterful. He simply pointed out when it came her time to be laid to rest, he wouldn't want anyone defiling her tomb. The change in the young woman was… remarkable. And I am certain that he was deadly serious as well, for if she were to die before him he would see to it she were laid to rest with dignity and honour." Oleff inclined his head, thinking. "There is also something that Prior Hlam told me about this morning regarding the Rite of Tyr." Nasher nodded for him to continue. "Those undergoing the Rite are allowed visitors. Well, unsurprisingly she visited him, but when Hlam went to show her out he found her asleep in the squire's arms. It seems she was… concerned for his safety and once he'd managed to calm her enough, she simply gave into exhaustion and fell asleep. Hlam sought Tyr's guidance in the matter and he allowed her to remain."

"I can confirm that, Lord Nasher," said Nevalle. "She was present when Sir Grayson and I went to collect the squire. I don't know about Sir Grayson, but I found the whole thing… unnerving, as if we really shouldn't have been there."

"Oh? And why do you say that, Nevalle?" asked Nasher, slightly amused at the knight's awkwardness.

Nevalle rubbed the back of his neck, trying to formulate a response that wouldn't make him look like a total idiot. "I don't know if I can fully explain, Lord Nasher. But there was something about what we saw… a feeling that we really _shouldn__'__t _be seeing it. They were acting so much like a couple it was frightening."

Nasher nodded. "Well, gentlemen, you've helped clarify the situation … but that still doesn't help me when it comes to knighting the young squire."

"When? Don't you mean if?" Nevalle asked.

"No, Nevalle. I mean when, for I fear it will be all too soon when I bestow a knighthood on the young harbourman's shoulders. Can you imagine how the nobility will react to that, much less his consort?"

"I don't really see the problem, my lord," the captain of the Nine replied, obviously not following his Lord's train of thought.

Callum shook his head. "Are you really_ that_ dense, Nevalle?" he said. "Imagine if they marry? With a knighthood she by default gains the title of Lady. Now do you see Lord Nasher's predicament?"

The horrified look on Nevalle's face spoke volumes. "Oh…"

"Oh indeed," Nasher replied.

"Well, they may not marry, my lord," Nevalle responded lamely.

"Do you really believe that, Nevalle? Given what we all witnessed today?" Nasher said, giving Nevalle a long hard look.

"It's… _possible_," Nevalle said cautiously, trying to defend his increasingly indefensible position.

"But not very likely," Nasher responded. "I believe that the only thing now that could possibly separate them would be death itself, after what we've seen."

"If you ask me, the nobility could do with a kick in the pants," Callum said. "But that decision is yours, Lord Nasher."

"Don't remind me," Nasher said sourly. "Thank you for your help, gentlemen, you are dismissed." As his three advisors left he stood, walked to the window and looked out over the city, no closer to a decision than when he'd started.

Nasher had to admit that Callum was right. The Lord's Alliance could do with a kick in the pants and he suspected that the young harbourman and his tiefling consort would certainly do that. The more Nasher thought about it, the more he liked the sound of Sir Marcus and Lady Neeshka. _So be it,_ he thought. Nasher had made his decision.


	11. Night with Neeshka

"Would you mind if I... stayed with you tonight?" Neeshka asked softly as she and Marcus crossed the Dolphin Bridge, still hand in hand, heading back to the Flagon after the trial by combat. The rest of their friends were probably already back there, filling Duncan and Sal in on all the happenings and on Neeshka's stunt.

Marcus eyed the tiefling curiously. While the question had seemed innocent enough, there was something in the way that Neeshka had asked it. She was looking at the river and just seemed unsure, vulnerable. The harbourman then realised what she was _really_ asking, and it terrified him. Facing Lorne had seemed easy… _This_, however, if it backfired, could get very nasty. The last thing that Marcus wanted to do was hurt the woman he'd come to love and care for.

"Are you certain about this, Neesh?" Marcus asked slowly.

Neeshka turned slightly to look at the harbourman. "Yes, I _am_ certain. I mean, I could have lost you today but I didn't." She smiled. "I love you, harbour boy, and I want to_ show_ you just how much."

Marcus smiled. "I love you, too, Neesh," he said, pulling her into a hug. "I want you in my life, for better or worse, and I don't care what that big girl's blouse, Sir Nevalle, thinks about us." Neeshka giggled at the harbourman's description of the blond-haired knight. "And I'm sure he'd disapprove of what we're planning on doing."

Neeshka grinned devilishly. "Then that's even more reason to, you know," she said. "I mean, doing something you know someone will disapprove of is fun. Most of the time, anyway."

Marcus chuckled. "And why do I get the feeling you know all about that, hmm?" he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.

* * *

"It was _disgusting_." Bishop said, as Marcus and Neeshka entered the Flagon. "She was all over him. Surprised she didn't jump him then and there. That would have been something to see, come to think of it. And in front of Lord Nasher!"

Elanee sighed. "Do you have to be so vulgar, Bishop?" the wood elf asked. "As usual, you are wrong. Her desire for him was obvious, but understandable: he had just faced a situation that could have ended in his death."

"I don't know about that, ranger," Khelgar said, wading into the conversation. "You might find it disgusting, but I'd call it _enthusiastic_. And as for being in front of the nobles, that's the least of their worries, as half of Neverwinter was there, or so it seemed."

"I agree with Khelgar," Casavir's steady voice said. "She was simply expressing her worry and relief that he was safe. It is obvious that she was far more concerned than any of us had thought, for she hid it so well."

Shandra snorted. "You obviously didn't take much notice of Neeshka just before Marcus left to face Lorne. She was very worried about him and looked to me as though she'd been crying."

Marcus had seen Sand sitting off to one side, just watching the others telling the tale. He walked over to the moon elf with Neeshka following. "Ah, I was wondering when the two of you would arrive back here," the wizard said, with a knowing smile. "I was beginning to think the both of you had taken a detour behind a suitably large piece of foliage."

"Sand!" Marcus hissed, embarrassed, as Neeshka turned a slight shade of pink.

"Sorry, perhaps that was a little too obvious. You forget I've been round a few centuries, so I've seen it all before," Sand replied seriously. "And before you ask, look in your bedside cabinet, Marcus. You'll find some potions that Neeshka should drink before you get…ah, physical."

"Thanks, Sand, you're a life saver." Marcus smiled with relief while Neeshka blushed a little more.

The moon elf inclined his head. "You're welcome. The two of you deserve a little relaxation and happiness with all you've been through. Each potion should be good for about a week," Sand said. "I'm sure you don't want to run the risk of hearing the pitter-patter of tiny feet just yet."

The harbourman nodded. "You're right about that, Sand. But…" he cast a glance at Neeshka who was still blushing a little, "…one day when - and if - our lives have become more settled, I'd like to have kids."

Neeshka's eyes grew wide with surprise at that remark. _He__'__s serious about that?_ She'd thought that Marcus had said that all those months ago just to make her feel better. All she could do was open and close her mouth a few times as the harbourman quietly led her out of the common room, unnoticed by everyone else.

* * *

As they passed Neeshka's room, she stopped. "I want to get my stuff together, Marcus," she said with a smile.

"Oh?" Marcus asked, intrigued.

Neeshka smiled wickedly. "You know, I don't think there's going to be much need for us to have a room each. Not after tonight, anyway." Her red eyes sparkled.

Marcus felt his eyebrows shoot upwards sharply. She'd just blindsided him, as he hadn't been expecting it. "Are you sure about this, Neesh?" he asked, concerned. "I mean, sleeping together is one thing, but sharing a room is a major step up, you know, and I don't want to rush you."

Neeshka just had to smile at how worried the harbourman looked. He really was wearing his heart on his sleeve. "Yes, I'm sure about this. We've been more or less together for what, five or six months now?" she asked. "I think everyone is wondering when we're going to 'move in' together, you know?" she said with a smile. "And you're not rushing me. I_ want_ this and I'm sure you do, too," Neeshka said, putting her arms around the harbourman's neck and kissing him tenderly.

Marcus was lost for words as this woman just kept surprising him. In the end, he smiled. "Alright, if you put it that way, you better pack, I guess, Neesh," he said as he opened the door to Neeshka's room.

* * *

"Serena, have you seen Marcus or Neeshka on your way here?" Duncan asked with a frown as she, Valen and Deekin arrived.

The priestess shook her head. "No I can't say that I have. Why?"

The innkeeper sighed. "Well, we were going to have a celebration, but I didn't want to start until they get here."

"All of you were so busy telling Duncan and Sal what had happened that they've already arrived." Sand spoke up. "However, I suspect that we will not be seeing them until morning. They have planned a_ private_ celebration of their own."

Bishop snorted. "What's the betting we _hear_ them before morning?" the ranger asked with a leer.

Shandra looked slightly confused for a moment. "Gods, Elanee was right. You_ are_ disgusting, Bishop," she said, wrinkling her nose as she realised what the ranger meant.

Deekin looked up at Serena. "Goat-girl fancies the squire, the same way goat-man fancies boss?" he asked innocently, as he made some notes in his book.

Serena did her best not to blush as she bent down. "Deek, not now," she hissed to the reptilian bard.

"I never thought I'd say this, Serena," Valen said, looking uncomfortable. "But do you think you could ask him to play the doom song?"

* * *

"So: now you get to have your way with me," Marcus said half jokingly as he closed the door to his room and locked it. Butterflies tumbled in his stomach and he was sure he'd have felt better if there had been a fight ahead. At least then he'd know what to do. He felt a little weak in the knees but it was too late to run. Nobody had prepared him for this moment, even if he had been given 'The Talk' by Georg.

Turning around, he saw that Neeshka was busy looking through her gear for something. Compared to him she looked very self-confident, as if she knew what she was going to do and, more to the point, how to do it. Perhaps she was more experienced, or had her emotions better under control? How would she react if he told her that he was an absolute beginner? That thought terrified the harbourman.

"Yeah, I guess, but I thought it meant it was _you_ that got to have _your _way with me," the tiefling replied, still hunting through her clothes, and at last coming across the garment she was looking for. She placed the bundle of purple silk within easy reach and turned back to the face the harbourman.

Marcus rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the floor, at a spot just in front of Neeshka's feet. "Yeah, about that…" he murmured, nearly whispering. "Never gotten this far before with a woman, Neesh," he said softly, not daring to look up into her eyes.

Neeshka blinked, surprised. "What? You mean to tell me you've _never_…" she asked, her eyes huge. "Just how old are you, Cole?"

The harbourman shook his head, looking and feeling very sheepish. "Twenty-five. No, never," Marcus said. "That doesn't mean I'm totally clueless, though. You remember me talking about Amie?" Neeshka gave a nod. "Well… one year we'd both, along with Bevil, gotten pretty drunk on Harvest Mead… and things got very close to really getting out of hand. Fortunately we had enough of our wits to realise that what had started as a little harmless fun was getting very close to becoming something very serious. Also, Tarmas found us and gave us all a real chewing out for being so stupid."

Neeshka wanted to laugh, almost. "Gods, harbour boy, you could have fooled me. I thought you were quite the ladies' man, you know," she said with a smile. "You always seemed to know what to do and say to me, or Shandra and Elanee. And look at you now, you're a nervous wreck!"

Marcus shrugged. "I've just done what I've felt was right and correct by you," he said. "Now that things are getting more serious, I'm a bit over my head, and yes... more than a little nervous," he admitted.

"Well, just keep doing what you feel is right and I think we'll be okay," Neeshka said, putting her arms around the harbourman's neck. "And... remembering our close encounters, I suspect you're very talented. So don't worry, I love you, so you almost can't do anything wrong. But... I've got a bit of a confession to make, too," Neeshka said, feeling awkward. _What happens if he doesn't want me?_ she thought. "This is the first time I've gotten this far with a guy." Marcus was truly surprised by this and it showed. Neeshka grinned. "My mentor used to say to me, 'Neeshka, my dear, when you're older, men will desire you and for the wrong reasons, so be careful, child.' And he was right."

Marcus just nodded as he considered something. "You said this is your first time with a guy," he said slowly. "Are you saying, Neesh, you've, uhm... you know… done it with another woman?" he asked, a strange look on his face.

Neeshka didn't bat an eye. "Yeah, I did. Got a problem with that, harbour boy?" she asked, almost daring him to be mad at her.

The harbourman shook his head and smiled. "No problem, just seems… odd. Can't explain it really. Still, it doesn't change the way I feel about you, Neesh," he said, kissing her, letting his hands slide down the curves of her body to rest on her hips.

"I'm glad," Neeshka said as she stepped away from the harbourman. "Now be a good harbour boy and turn around while I get changed into something more… comfortable," she said, her eyes dancing.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "That's mean. I don't get to watch," he said jokingly as he turned around, willing to play whatever game that the tiefling had in mind.

Neeshka grinned. "That's the point, because if I allow you to look, I'll probably never get this 'dress' on. But you'll like what you see. I promise," she said, as she sat down on the harbourman's bed and began undoing her boots.

* * *

Marcus was smiling. He might not be able to see what Neeshka was doing, but he could hear just fine. First he heard her boots come off, one and then the other. Next the gloves, he thought, then the cloak. Next was the chain leggings closely followed by the chain shirt. Now he heard the rustle of fabric, which was probably the padding Neeshka wore. As anyone who wore armour of any kind could tell you, chafing was a pain. Then the harbourman heard something else and he thought that it was probably Neeshka's underwear coming off.

The thought that Neeshka was standing behind him just a few feet away, naked as on the day she was born, was almost too much for the harbourman. Marcus was very tempted to peek over his shoulder, but he thought that wouldn't be the wisest thing to do as he heard her take several steps, presumably toward where her gear lay and then heard the rustle of fabric again. Marcus had to wonder what she was doing. Slipping into a night gown of some kind, maybe?

"Alright, harbour boy, almost done. Now it's your turn. Off with your armour. And no peeking!" Neeshka said, trying not to giggle.

Marcus sighed theatrically. "Gods, woman, you really know how to drive a guy crazy," he said, amused. He didn't really mind… as his armour was getting _just _a little uncomfortable.

Neeshka watched unashamedly as the harbourman began removing his well-worn full plate, slowly revealing the well toned muscles in his arms and legs. The tiefling let out a contented sigh. They'd shared a bedroll a few times, and they'd slept in her bed twice, but this was different. Tonight they'd be sleeping in _his _bed. Not that she suspected they'd do _much _actual sleeping. But why had he wanted her? Neeshka didn't think she'd ever figure that out. She was never that good at expressing her innermost thoughts… but tonight she'd be able to show him how she felt and be the woman she wanted to be for him.

"About time," Neeshka said as the harbourman stood, back still to her, clad in an old tunic and pants. "Alright, you can turn around now. I think you'll like what you see," she said, a small smile on her lips.

The harbourman turned around and just stared for a few moments as his eyes slowly travelled down Neeshka's lithe body and up again, drinking her form in with his eyes. His mouth became dry and he swallowed hard. She was wearing a fine silken corset, rich purple in colour, one that left little to the imagination for it hugged her curves.

"Where did you get that?" Marcus asked in a hoarse voice when he finally was able to speak.

Neeshka grinned. "I picked it up after the falling-out with Leldon. A girl needs to feel special once in a while, you know. Finest Calimshan silk Leldon's money could buy."

Marcus whistled approvingly, as Calimshan silk wasn't cheap by any means. "You look stunning in it, Neesh, really. I feel like I'm in a dream," he said, with appreciation.

Neeshka smiled seductively. "If you think I look stunning in it… how will I look _out _of it?" she asked as she loosened the ties. The negligee just seemed to slide down her body and gathered at her feet in a pool of purple silk. She carefully stepped out of the garment and closed, with a few slow steps that made her appear like a cat on the prowl, what distance there was between her and the harbourman.

Marcus was in mortal danger, as he almost forgot to breathe when a very naked Neeshka put her arms around his neck and cuddled herself close to him. All his doubts and fears melted away as he only wanted to feel and touch her and, he grinned in his mind, 'explore' this wonderful body. Cover her with kisses and tenderness and...

"Now I get to a have a little fun getting you out of the remainder of your clothes and see what you have to offer, harbour boy," she said, her eyes taking on a slight predatory gleam.

* * *

"Hang on, let me get this straight." Duncan said, looking confused. "Neeshka is descended from devils whereas you're of demonic heritage?' he asked Valen.

"That's correct," the weapon master replied. "When I shook her hand in the courtroom, I easily felt her baatezu blood. There is nothing to fear, however," Valen assured the innkeeper.

Bishop snorted. "Isn't there?" he asked. "Our illustrious 'leader' is most likely off fornicating with the she-devil from the hells and it's nothing to worry about? Excuse me if I don't believe that."

"Silence, Bishop!" Casavir snapped. "What they do behind closed doors is their business, not ours." He was getting annoyed with the ranger, again.

"Isn't it?" the ranger asked turning to face Casavir. "I'd have thought, _paladin,_ that you'd have been concerned for our leader's 'moral' well being, but apparently not!" Bishop taunted, "As you're happy to let the she-devil get her hooks into him in more ways than one."

Elanee just sighed and rolled her eyes, and Serena shook her head in disgust at the ranger's lack of tact and manners in general. Shandra sighed in frustration as well.

"Just because _you__'__re_ not getting any, ranger…" Khelgar muttered under his breath. As far as the dwarf was concerned he was happy for his friends. They'd earned the right to be happy, even if it was just for one night.

Casavir looked as though he'd been slapped across the face by the ranger's words. "I take_ everyone__'__s_ moral well-being seriously, Bishop," he said calmly. "But it is up to the individual whether or not they listen to what I have to say. So far our leader has shown good moral judgment and his relationship with Neeshka hasn't proven to be a problem." _If anything, it__'__s helping to keep him sane with the amount of stress he__'__s been under,_ Casavir thought, _but try and explain that to Bishop._

Bishop snorted again. "Yeah? Keep telling yourself that, paladin, and you just might start to believe it," the ranger said with a sniff as he took a drink from his tankard.

* * *

"Were we as loud as I think we were?" Marcus asked as Neeshka snuggled up against him.

The tiefling snickered. "With our luck, harbour boy, we were probably louder," she said, smiling at her lover.

Marcus smiled. "You realise, Neesh, that we're going to get some funny looks tomorrow morning. And I'm surprised we haven't had anyone bashing on the door telling us to keep it down."

Neeshka grinned impishly as she peeked under the bed covers. "Hate to tell you this, but there's no way in the hells to keep _that_ down," she said, approving of what her eyes were seeing.

"Neeshka!" Marcus said, laughing. "First, that's_ not_ what I meant and you know it. And second, how could it be kept down with a woman like you cuddling up to me... and him. After all, you explained and showed him his duties and workplace," he said, grinning, ruffling his lover's hair.

"Yeah, I know, I'm guilty," Neeshka replied, pouting. "But it's near to impossible lying beside you and not to... cuddle... and kiss... and fumble and... more," she said, her voice fading while her fingers followed the line of the muscles on his chest and from there down to his navel.Then, Neeshka said, more seriously, "I'm okay with the funny looks, and I dare say Bishop will have something crass to say. Your uncle Duncan seems alright with things, and that's all we need to worry about. Knowing barrel-house, he'll tease us, as will the others, but that's okay too."

Marcus rolled his eyes at the mention of the ranger. "Yeah, I'm glad Duncan has come around. I still don't know what Casavir said to him, but it helped a lot," he said, looking thoughtful. "You, Elanee and Shandra all seem to get along now," he remarked.

Neeshka nodded slowly, for she was unsure how Marcus would react to what she was going to say. "Well, Elanee left us to talk, once Shandra had recovered enough. But we ended up yelling and screaming at each other, so I told the farm girl that she was sexually frustrated and needed to get laid, and that I'd be happy to help her." The tiefling still couldn't believe that the situation with Shandra had resolved itself the way it had.

Marcus coughed, almost choking, for the images he now had running through his mind of the two women were interesting, to say the least. "Are you trying to say, Neesh, that you..." he began.

"Fucked the farm girl?" the tiefling asked innocently.

"That's one way of putting it," Marcus replied dryly. "But yes, did you?"

Neeshka grinned wickedly. "That, harbour boy, stays between Shandra and myself. A girl has to have some secrets, you know." The tiefling couldn't help but giggle at the look on Marcus's face. "You were right, though, we were both jealous of the other," Neeshka explained. "It's pretty funny when you think about it. But we've sorted everything out… and she's pretty cool for a farm girl."

"I'm glad to hear it, Neesh," Marcus said, hiding his disappointment, as he found the thought of Neeshka and Shandra very arousing, though he wasn't sure if Neeshka wasn't playing some sort of elaborate joke. "That just leaves one question remaining. Why did you like the Moonstone Mask more _before _Ophala cleaned it up?" he asked.

Neeshka blushed a little. "You picked up on that, did you?" she asked.

The harbourman nodded. "Yes I did, sweetheart… and I want an _honest _answer, Neesh."

The tiefling grinned. "Ophala ran a gambling den as well as a brothel, so I'd often stalked the gambling den. It was always easy to get a few coins that way. Good for chasing possible marks too. I'd know if their estate or house was worth it," Neeshka explained. "Also, Ophala had me do some jobs for her every so often. I was well known round the Mask. Got to know most of the girls Ophala employed, as she was very particular about whom she'd hire. Not many of them made it through the plague," she said sadly, looking away, as her eyes filled with tears.

Marcus put his arms around her and pulled Neeshka into a cuddle. "Hey, what's the matter, sweetheart? Remembering someone?' he asked softly.

Neeshka nodded as she wiped her eyes. "Yeah, I guess. The girl I was… well, I'm not sure I'd say I was in love with her… but we were close and we did have fun together." She looked shyly at the harbourman. "She was the one who taught me a few things about life."

Marcus smiled and nodded his understanding. "I'm glad you had someone that cared about you, Neesh. And I guess I should've known that my beautiful rogue would always be a rogue," he said. "I may want to tame you, but I wouldn't want to change you. Don't think I could," the harbourman said, grinning.

"Tame me, Cole?" Neeshka asked, arching an eyebrow. "Are you sure you _can,_ harbour boy?" she said, a challenge in her words as she pounced…

* * *

Marcus wasn't sure what woke him as he opened his eyes. Judging by the light in the room, he thought it was just a bit before dawn. The woman in his arms shifted and he knew that's what woke him. He was so used to sleeping alone. Marcus looked down and Neeshka had her head resting on his arm. The look on her face was one of contentment and satisfaction, as he could see a small smile gracing her lipsand her body was completely relaxed. The harbourman had to admit that he felt pretty content himself, and his hand started to idly stroke her back as he cast his mind back over the events of last night and their talk in between their lovemaking.

Marcus let out a sigh as he realized, and not for the first time, that the woman that had claimed his heart was indeed a complex creature and more than a little conflicted. Neeshka could be brash and brazen one minute, then shy and bashful the next. He was surprised that she'd turned out as well adjusted an individual as she had, given what he had learned about her past life. And if the harbourman was honest with himself, he knew there were some more surprises to come. Marcus liked to think he'd helped to pull her back onto the right path. That, of course, could just be wishful thinking on his part…

The harbourman felt Neeshka shift again and then heard her yawn. "Morning, sleepyhead," Marcus said, looking down.

Neeshka looked up and smiled. "Hey, you."

Marcus grinned. "Hey, yourself," he replied. "So, slept well?"

Neeshka giggled. "We didn't do much of _that _last night," she said as she sat up, straddling her lover's waist as his eyes roved her beautiful naked body.

Marcus was about to reply when he sucked in a breath. "Neesh… what in… are you _doing_?" he managed to rasp out, his eyes going as big as dinner plates.

Neeshka just grinned wickedly. "Well you _did _ask about what uses I could put my tail to, so…"

"Me and my big mouth," Marcus said as Neeshka stopped what she was doing with her tail, which he was grateful for. "You're going to be the death of me, woman," he said "I'm sure of it. So go on, kill me softly... and take your time. I'm not in a hurry." _Never mind the fact I__'__m grinning like an idiot._

"At least you'll die happy and with a silly grin on your face, harbour boy," Neeshka purred as she leaned down and kissed her lover. _So much for an early morning. I guess I'll spend the day in bed _was the last coherent thought Marcus had.

* * *

"Well now, look at this," Bishop said as he saw Marcus and Neeshka walking down the hall towards the common room. "So, has the she-devil marked you yet, oh great leader?" the ranger asked sarcastically.

"I don't see what, if anything, it's got to do with you, ranger," Neeshka growled.

"I wasn't talking to you, _she-devil_," Bishop replied coldly.

Marcus's right hand shot forward and grabbed the ranger by his throat, slamming him against the wall. "Bishop," he hissed, "I know you lack basic manners, but try and act as if you do once in a while. Alright? Treat her with the respect that befits her. Otherwise I'll teach you how to behave. But that lesson could be extremely painful. And I bet you wouldn't like it," he growled, and let the ranger go. _And I was in such a good mood too,_ he thought dismally.

Bishop had turned pale with shock. He'd underestimated how much Marcus cared about the tiefling. _Attachments can get you killed,_ Bishop thought. At least, that's what he'd kept telling himself all these years.

Neeshka had kept quiet during this incident. She was nearly as shocked as the ranger as her pulse raced. But the reason was quite different. Suddenly there was a man who was willing to fight and to shelter her. Was this the same man that had loved her so tenderly all through the night? Were these the hands that drove her to nearly wanton bliss? What else would he do for her? What else could he do with these hands? Build a home, a family, a life? And slowly a feeling grew inside her that she never had before, like a tingling in her belly, a warm, rosy glow that spread through her body. And she would have liked to cry to everyone, "Look here, this is _my_ man. And I am so happy to have him. And he loves _me_, the 'goat-girl', the 'demon-wench'. So what makes you damned bitches believe you're any better than me?" And then she understood the meaning of love.

"I'd like to see you teach me anything, oh great leader," Bishop replied at last, rubbing his throat. "I can always up and leave, you know."

"No one is forcing you to stay, Bishop, least of all me," Marcus said seriously. "Perhaps if you had a girl of your own, you'd understand," he said, putting an arm around Neeshka. "Come on, sweetheart, let's go."

Bishop watched them leave, still rubbing his throat. "That's the thing I do understand, all too well in fact," the ranger said to himself. "A city like Luskan, though, it twists your hopes and dreams until there's nothing left but a shell." Bishop had been forced to kill the woman he'd loved as passionately as Marcus loved Neeshka, not least because she was leading the assassin squad that had been hunting him. The ranger had held her as her life drained from her, and when she'd died, something inside Bishop had died with her. He'd hunted Luskans ever since, swearing revenge.

_Admit it, you're jealous as well,_ Bishop told himself. _Why wouldn't you be? Marcus is well liked, has a respected job, not sure about the whole squire deal, though, but then neither is he. And he has the love of a beautiful woman. What man doesn't want that?_

* * *

Marcus's hands were still trembling when they entered the common room, so he swallowed his anger and tried to find the happy feeling he had before they'd met Bishop. "Is it just me," he whispered to Neeshka, "or does something look a little odd to you, Neesh?"

The tiefling grinned. "You mean the fact that Elanee and Shandra are sitting by themselves over at that table?" she said, pointing. "And Duncan, Casavir and Khelgar are all at the bar?" Neeshka shook her head. "No, nothing's odd. They just want to interrogate us separately."

"Oh, well… that's okay. As long as I'm not seeing things, sweetheart," the harbourman said, as he gave Neeshka a kiss on the cheek and walked toward where the boys were waiting.

* * *

"So when will we need to convert one of the rooms into a nursery?" Khelgar asked with a knowing smile. Marcus turned pink in response.

Casavir, who had been about to take a drink of orange juice, almost choked instead. "Khelgar!" he said, doing his best to scold the dwarf while trying not to laugh.

"Gee, thank you so _very _much for that image, dwarf," Duncan said, trying to look stern. "As if I don't have enough kids running 'round this inn as it is."

"Well, you did help out Cormick. Wolf and his friends are off the streets, Duncan," Marcus said with a smile.

"Aye, lad, that's true, and I'm happy to do it," Duncan said. "The little rascals aren't so bad and they're safe enough here." The innkeeper looked his kin right in the eye. "So what are your intentions now, lad? Things are getting serious, you know."

Marcus nodded. "True enough, Duncan. One day I want to marry her, settle down someplace and have a family," he said thoughtfully. "Though with the madness we currently call our lives, I don't suppose that'll be happening anytime soon."

"If the two of you have any children, you know they'll at the very least have horns," Khelgar said, concerned. "You're a squire, too, don't forget."

The harbourman sighed. "Khelgar, I try not to think about the fact I'm a squire at times. As for the fact that any children that I might have with Neeshka may have horns like their mother, I can easily live with that. The rest of the nobility will just have to deal with it," Marcus said with a grin.

Duncan nodded. "That's all I needed to hear, lad. I'm glad to see you've thought about this long term," the innkeeper said. The half-elf may have been dead against their relationship to start with, but once he'd gotten over his own feelings on the matter and he could see that his kin really did love the tiefling very much, all he wanted for them was to be happy.

Casavir smiled. "Duncan, this may shock you, but Marcus has been thinking about marrying Neeshka since I met up with him near Old Owl Well. He has not taken this step lightly by any means," the paladin revealed.

The innkeeper chuckled. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. I'm not sure what Daeghun will think of this, though," he said, rubbing his chin.

"I'll find out soon enough, Duncan," Marcus said. "Neeshka and I are going back to West Harbour, to tell Retta about Lorne. Not looking forward to that. So I guess we'll see the old elf while we're there."

* * *

"Well, come on, Neeshka. What's he like?" Shandra asked, her eyes full of mischief. Elanee was doing her best to look uninterested, but the wood elf had a slight smile on her lips, and her eyes and ears never left the tiefling.

Neeshka couldn't help but giggle. A few short weeks ago, they didn't like each other; now they were acting like old friends. "What do you want me to say, Shandra?" Neeshka asked. "I've never been one who can put her thoughts into words easily. And if I were to tell you any details, we would be sitting here the whole day. But he was a wonderful lover," she said looking around. "Seeing as I was his first," she added softly.

Shandra looked taken aback with surprise, whereas Elanee didn't do as much as raise an eyebrow at the news.

"What?" the farm girl asked. "You mean he'd never… until last night?"

The tiefling nodded. "No, never. Not that you'd have thought so. He seemed to know what he was doing." Neeshka grinned. "Taught him a few things too, fast learner is the harbour boy. He asked about our talk, too."

The farm girl went red. "I can't believe you told him about that. I thought it was just between us." Shandra felt very embarrassed.

"Don't worry, Shandra. I don't think Marcus believes me when I said I'd helped you to get laid," Neeshka said grinning impishly, "though I think he found the thought of us making out more than he could handle, and I mean that in a good way."

"I thought the two of you looked... happy when I came to check on you," Elanee observed. "Does Marcus know that you..."

"Like girls as well?" Neeshka asked. "Yes, and he seems okay with the idea." The tiefling smiled devilishly as a thought crossed her mind. Though she knew Marcus would need some convincing, it could provide an entertaining evening.

"So, alright, go into the details then," Shandra said mischievously, "I'm not in a hurry. Sounds more interesting to me than hunting Shadow Kings or githyanki."

"Shandra!" Elanee exclaimed, but a smile sparkled in her eyes.

Shandra looked at her, grinning." It's alright, I was just joking." Then she turned back to Neeshka."I never really realized how much Marcus loved you until I saw you run out to him after fighting Lorne. Then I saw, really saw, there was only one woman for him and that was you," Shandra said, sounding happy and sad at the same time.

Neeshka could nearly feel Shandra's emotions and a lump rose in her throat. She still couldn't believe that she was the lucky one, that others begrudged her for her luck. Neeshka gave the farm girl a hug. "Aw, come on, Shandra. You're a good looking woman. I should know, right?" The farm girl blushed. "I can think of at least one man in this inn that, even though he hasn't been too obvious about it, does find you very attractive."

"Really? Who?" Shandra asked, mystified.

"Duncan," Neeshka said as if it were obvious. "He made you feel welcome and I was pretty sure Duncan was going to try and match you up with the harbour boy, but I think Casavir put paid to that."

"Oh, well, um, thanks Neeshka," Shandra replied, feeling overwhelmed. Now that she thought about it, Duncan had seemed to pay her more attention than the others. _So it wasn't just my imagination,_ she thought. "So, now that the trial is out of the way, what are you and Marcus planning on doing, or is that a silly question?" the farm girl asked, grinning.

The tiefling giggled. "Oh, I'm sure we'll be doing more of that. Marcus wants to take me back to West Harbour, as he has some things to take care of. And he can introduce me to what passes as his family… which could be interesting," Neeshka said, feeling unsure about the whole thing.


	12. Return to West Harbour Part 1

"Well, what do we have here?" Marcus said as he picked up an elegant looking necklace off the jeweller's stall in the market at Highcliff. The trip to West Harbour so far had been refreshingly boring. Marcus and Neeshka had gotten to do some things that a regular couple would; browsing the market hand in hand, bickering over what to buy and so on. It felt normal, it felt wonderful. They just got to be themselves.

The necklace was simple in design and was not enchanted. The harbourman turned it in the sunlight and, as the silver and platinum glinted, Marcus made up his mind to buy it, because he _could _and he wanted to see it around Neeshka's neck. "How much?" he asked the jeweller.

The man studied Marcus, and then looked at Neeshka before replying. "Five hundred gold," he said.

"Huh? What are you buying that for?" Neeshka asked, mystified.

The harbourman smiled as he made a show about thinking over the price. Marcus suspected he was paying a little more than it was actually worth, but he didn't mind. "Thought that was obvious, Neesh. This is for you," he said. "Very well, five hundred gold it is," Marcus told the jeweller as he started to dig out the gold from his coin purse.

"What? Why? I don't understand," Neeshka said, still not fully comprehending.

_No, I don__'__t suppose you do-- which is tragic_. Marcus turned to face Neeshka with the necklace in hand. "I bought this simply because I liked the look of it and I want to see it gracing your neck. That's if you'll indulge me?" he asked with a charming smile.

Neeshka placed her hands on her hips. "What are you up to, Cole?" she asked suspiciously, old defences kicking in.

The harbourman tried not to laugh. He could tell that wouldn't have been smart. "Do I need a motive?" Marcus asked innocently. _I intend to spoil her while we__'__re alone and I__'__ve got the chance. _

"Men usually have a motive for this kind of thing," Neeshka replied, almost as if it was a reflex.

"You caught me. Yes, I do have a motive, I guess." Marcus smiled. "It's just you and me on this trip, and I intend to make full use of that fact to spoil you as much as I can. Starting with this necklace," he said, as he placed it around Neeshka's neck, then stepped back and studied the result. "Hmm… the armour rather ruins the effect," he said, rubbing his beard. "But I _did _see one or two dresses that I wouldn't mind seeing you in, that would do that necklace justice," he said, glancing at the clothing stalls.

Neeshka looked at her lover with wonder in her eyes. "You're serious about this, aren't you?" she asked, fingering the necklace. "You've given me this just because you can and you think it looks good on me," she said, her voice soft with awe. Neeshka knew she had nothing to fear, but a lifetime of experience was hard to ignore.

"Is that really so hard to believe? That I'd give you a gift because I can?" Marcus asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah… maybe… I don't know…no," Neeshka replied, confused.

Marcus smiled as he put his arms around her waist. "You are more to me than an adventuring companion, Neesh," he said softly. "You're my girlfriend, lover." _And one day my wife, I hope._ "So I'm going to make the most of this trip by ourselves to suitably spoil you as such."

Neeshka smiled. "I think I could get used to this, you know."

"That's good, because I plan on doing this kind of thing as often as I can… but with our luck it won't happen again for a while," Marcus said with a smile. "So… what do you say to checking out those dresses I mentioned?"

Neeshka grinned cheekily. "Why not? This dull little village could use some livening up. But, Cole… Me in a dress? You can't be serious!"

"Oh but I _am _serious, sweetheart," Marcus said, lowering his voice. "Remember that corset you had on? I think I saw some dresses that would go well with that," he said, his blue eyes sparkling.

* * *

Shandra was bored out of her mind. It seemed that everyone else was doing something, except her! Marcus and Neeshka had left for West Harbour and Casavir had taken Khelgar and Elanee on a tour of the city. Sand had his shop to run. As for Bishop… he was doing whatever it was Bishop did.

"Gods, I'm bored," the farm girl muttered. "Still, don't see why we couldn't have gone to West Harbour as well."

"Shandra, lass, you know why," Duncan said as he sat down next to her. "There was no need for you to go to West Harbour with Marcus, as it's got to be the most boring place on the face of Faerûn," the innkeeper said. "Not to mention he has some personal business to take care of. And I suspect it'll be the last chance that he and Neeshka get to just be together before Marcus commences his duties as squire, now that his name has been cleared. So they're taking the opportunity while they can."

Shandra sighed. "Yeah, I know, but I'm still bored." The farm girl smiled, remembering what Neeshka had told her. "Still, it's not a total loss."

Duncan raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and what makes you say that, lass?" the innkeeper asked.

"I get to see if something I was told is true or not," Shandra said with a smile.

"And what was that, Shandra?" Duncan asked, looking a little unsure.

"That a certain half-elven innkeeper finds me attractive," the farm girl said. "And he was possibly planning on fixing me up with his kin. But a certain paladin of Tyr put paid to that, from what I hear."

Duncan blushed. "Neeshka told you, didn't she, the little minx! I swear nothing's safe with her around," he said, a bit embarrassed. "Yes, I do find you attractive, and before Casavir gave me a good talking-to, I had thought about doing that. But I see how wrong that would have been. Probably wouldn't have worked, either."

Shandra smiled. "Hmm… it looks as though I won't be bored after all."

"What do you mean, lass?" the innkeeper asked, scratching his head.

"I get to find out more about _you_, Duncan," the farm girl replied, with a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Oh… well… I'm not that interesting, lass," Duncan said, with an awkward feeling slowly spreading in his stomach.

* * *

"Well, Neesh, what do you think?" Marcus asked as he and Neeshka entered the village of West Harbour. It was mid afternoon and it was a fine sunny day for once.

Neeshka wrinkled her nose. "You weren't kidding about the smell, were you, harbour boy? How can anyone live here?"

"You get used to it. Tarmas was forever grumbling about the smell and how damp the place is," Marcus replied, looking around to see who was about. He saw Brother Merring tending to the small chapel. "Come on, let's go see our local priest of Lathander."

* * *

Merring was cleaning the small chapel near his house, which was just a low walled area with an altar and pews. It served its purpose well enough, although Georg was still just _promising _to add a roof.

The priest became aware of footsteps behind him and turned to see who it was. Merring let a smile cross his face: their wayward harbourman, Marcus Cole, in what appeared to be almost new full plate. The priest's attention was then drawn to the young woman who stood to the harbourman's right, her hand loosely held by his. Merring felt his eyebrows rise slightly when he became aware that the woman had a pair of horns protruding from her forehead and that he could occasionally see the flash of a tail. _So… she__'__s the tiefling that Dawnbringer Natrisse had mentioned in her letters,_ he thought. _You certainly have interesting taste in women, Marcus._

"Welcome back to West Harbour, Marcus. You seem a very different person than the one that left here all those months ago," the priest observed. "And who is your companion, if I may ask?"

"You have _no _idea just how different, Brother Merring," Marcus said with a smile. "I'm now a squire in Lord Nasher's service." Merring looked impressed. "And this young lady at my side is my girlfriend, Neeshka."

Merring coughed lightly. "So the stories we've heard from Neverwinter are true," he said, mildly surprised. "I've had some letters from Dawnbringer Natrisse and she has mentioned your tiefling friend."

"We get that reaction a lot," Marcus replied with a grin. "And it's funny you mention Dawnbringer Natrisse as she asked me to give you this…" he said as he looked though his pack, and then cast a glance at the woman to his right when he couldn't find the box. "Neesh… you wouldn't happen to know where that package for Brother Merring went to, would you?" Marcus asked with a smile.

Neeshka put on her best 'innocent' face. "No. You had it, last I knew."

Neeshka could be very convincing, but Marcus knew better. "Oh really?" he asked, as he reached around and pulled the tithe box from her pack.

"Busted," Neeshka muttered with a grin. "You know me too well, harbour boy."

"Once a thief, always a thief," Marcus said with a playful smile. "But yes, I think it's fair to say we both know each other pretty well," he said as he handed the tithe box to Merring.

Merring has been smiling at their banter; it was clear to him they were close. He let out a sigh when he saw the tithe box, its seal still intact. "I told that woman that displays of wealth don't impress you Harbourmen," he said, taking the box from Marcus. "I'll just put this money away for future emergencies. Thank you, Neeshka, Marcus."

The harbourman gave a nod. "You're welcome, Brother Merring. Has anything of note happened in my absence?" Marcus asked. "I've been gone a long time."

"Lizardlings have attacked some of the outlying farmers." Then Merring let out a sigh. "Poor Bevil was assaulted right after you left, as well. He took weeks to recover but he won't tell a soul what happened."

"What?" Marcus asked with a frown. "Who attacked him, do you know?" _I should have been here,_ the harbourman thought.

Merring shook his head. "As I said, he won't talk about it. Georg and Daeghun questioned everyone in the village but no one had any reason to do such a thing." The priest shrugged. "Bevil is still shaken up by the ordeal and stays indoors most of the time. He comes out only when the militia is training. The physical wounds were easy enough to heal." Merring sighed and shook his head. "I'm afraid the wounds to the mind will take much longer."

_That doesn__'__t sound like the Bevil I know,_ Marcus thought. _Something must have really shaken him to make him act like that._ Marcus nodded slowly. "Thanks for telling me, Brother Merring. Maybe I can talk to him when I go to see Retta," he said. _As if things aren'__'__t bad enough._

"I'd advise against it, but you'd just ignore me so I shan't bother, Marcus," Merring said with a slight smile. He knew how close the two friends had been… and maybe it would help.

Marcus smiled. "Yes I know. Too stubborn for my own good, and all that."

Neeshka giggled. "I'll say, harbour boy... But I'm grateful that you're too stubborn to know better sometimes. Otherwise, well… we wouldn't be together, you know."

"Together?" Merring repeated. "As in…?" he asked, not sure what to think.

"Lovers? Yes," Marcus said, looking Merring in the eye, even if he felt a bit strange.

The priest could only nod. "I see. You have indeed changed since you left here, Marcus," Merring said, still trying to process the information.

"I have, in more ways than one," the harbourman admitted. "I don't think I could live here ever again. Not with what I've been through. And not just because I'm in love, with a beautiful woman who just happens to be a tiefling." Neeshka blushed slightly; she still wasn't used to the harbourman openly complimenting her.

Merring nodded. He understood. Marcus saw Neeshka as a woman first and a tiefling second, whereas most other people would see her as a tiefling first and a woman second, if at all. A rare quality, indeed.

"Come on, Neesh, let's see if we can find Georg. For once I've got a tale to tell him that he'll find hard to believe." They said goodbye to Merring and went to find Georg.

* * *

"There's a lot of trophies on the walls here, Duncan, I've noticed," Shandra said, looking round the common room.

The innkeeper nodded. "Yep, a lot of stories hanging on these walls. Shed a lot of my own blood, and others in the past. Now it all goes into the Flagon."

"Were you an adventurer?" the farm girl asked, surprised.

"Well, if you can call it that. Me and some old friends... now gone... made quite a company along the coast. There were five of us to start, but by the end, there was just me," Duncan said, a little sad.

"Can you tell me any stories?" Shandra asked eagerly.

Duncan shrugged. "I could, Shandra, but they wouldn't go anywhere, and there wouldn't be any tension in them, since you know I survived anyway. I'm just your average ex-adventurer who became an innkeeper."

* * *

"Marcus? What in Waukeen's name are you doing back here?" Georg asked, surprised to see the harbourman when he opened his front door. "And who's this fine young lady?" he asked, nodding at Neeshka as he led his visitors into the living room.

"Thought you'd like me to tell you the tale where I leave the village for Neverwinter, and on the way meet a girl, and then fall hopelessly in love with her?" Marcus asked with a grin as he sat down. "The madness I now call my life has settled down enough to allow for a brief return trip, so here we are," Marcus smiled. "And this is my girlfriend, Neeshka," he said, taking the tiefling's hand. "She kept pestering me about the little swamp village where I grew up. Couldn't disappoint her now, could I?" he asked.

For that Marcus got a slap on the arm. "Behave, you!" Neeshka said playfully.

Marcus arched an eyebrow. "Oh? And here I thought that it was _you _who had to behave, Neesh. I'm the one who has to keep their eye on you, remember?" he said, teasing. "Need I remind you about the Merring incident?" Neeshka just smiled and shook her head.

Georg was chuckling. "You're not kidding, are you?" he asked seriously. "You're really, truly in love with her," he said. Marcus had always been so serious and to see him now with his girlfriend was very heart- warming for Georg, though he was honestly surprised to see him with a tiefling, not that it mattered to Georg. His 'son' was happy and that's all a 'father' could ask for.

Marcus nodded. "Scary, isn't it? Never expected this to happen when I left for Neverwinter, but then I met up with Neeshka on the road to Fort Locke and next thing I know, I'm falling for her, and falling for her hard."

Georg nodded and became a little sad. "I guess Merring has told you about Bevil?" Marcus just nodded. "Gave us a bit of a scare, went missing right after you left for a day or three. Came back in bad shape, but Brother Merring mended him and now he's fine."

Marcus looked questioningly at Georg. "That's not what Merring told me. Bevil only comes out for militia practice and he hasn't talked to anyone. That's not the Bevil we both know, and you know it, Georg."

Georg sighed. "That's true. Maybe you'll have some luck talking to him now that you're back. So… anyway, what brings you back here besides showing your lady where you came from?" he asked.

Marcus looked sad. "It's not all good. The main reason I'm here is that I've found out what became of Lorne. Retta isn't going to like it. It's best she hears it from me." Georg nodded, understanding. "And you're looking at Neverwinter's newest squire," Marcus said, saving the best news for last.

"Well, there's something I didn't expect," Georg said proudly. "Well done! Show those city folk what a harbourman is made of, eh?" he asked.

"Something like that, Georg," Marcus said as he and Neeshka stood. "Well… we best be getting on and see Retta. Good to see you, old friend."

"Hey, enough with the _old _already!" Georg replied, smiling as he stood to show his visitors out. "It's been good to see you again, Marcus, and it's been a pleasure to meet the lady in your life." Then he smirked. "Don't forget I expect to be invited to the wedding!"

Neeshka's mouth dropped open and her eyes went huge at Georg's rather bold statement. Marcus just grinned. "Oh, I'll make certain of that. Don't know when it'll happen, though." With that Marcus led a very stunned Neeshka out of Georg's house and toward the Starling farm.

* * *

"What's _that_?" Neeshka asked, pointing to a large burn mark near the centre of the village.

"That's been there as long as I can remember," Marcus replied. "As to what it is, I don't know, don't think anyone does, actually. It's even got Tarmas baffled, though he thinks it's something to do with the battle that was fought here and which orphaned me."

Neeshka nodded slowly. "Let's go around. I don't feel so good," she said, looking at her lover. "Something about it is making my horns twitch." Marcus just nodded and led the way around the burn mark towards the Starling farm.

"You know, harbour boy, I think the mark is where that silver sword of the gith was broken, the one you keep finding the bits of," Neeshka said as they walked. "It might be my devil's blood, or the fact that there were so many devils and demons that fought here that I can still feel their presence, but there is something important about that mark."

"Are you certain, Neesh?" Marcus asked, with a worried frown.

The tiefling shrugged. "As certain as I can be," she replied.

* * *

As Marcus and Neeshka were walking up to the Starling farm, Retta's three dogs, Muttonchop, Locke and Nasher came bounding up, barking, their tails wagging happily. They recognised Marcus even if it had been sometime since they'd last seen him.

"Hey Muttonchop, Locke, Nasher, how are you, boys?" Marcus asked as he crouched down and gave each dog a fuss. "Been looking after your mistress?"

The dogs barked in the affirmative, or they seemed to. Marcus looked up at Neeshka. "Come on, I'll introduce you," he said, taking her hand and pulling her down alongside him.

"I… I don't know… guard dogs and me don't get on, usually," Neeshka said, looking unsure.

The harbourman smiled. "Don't worry. These three mutts are more family pets than anything, but they will defend their mistress if attacked, as some grey dwarfs found out the hard way," he said. "Just hold out your hand, and let them sniff. If they like you, they'll lick your hand."

Neeshka, who was still unsure about everything, held out her hand and each dog took its turn sniffing her hand. It played out almost the same each time. First was Muttonchop who had a sniff, then looked up at Neeshka, studying her, then cocked his head to one side and licked her hand. Locke and Nasher did almost the exact same thing. And, by the end of it, Neeshka had a childish grin on her face.

"See? That wasn't so bad now, was it?" Marcus asked, as they stood and started to walk toward Retta's house, the dogs trailing behind.

* * *

"Retta? Are you home?" Marcus called as they entered the house. It only took a few moments for the old woman to appear from the living room.

"Marcus!" Retta cried, on seeing the harbourman. "By the gods, are you a sight for these old eyes! What are you doing back here?" she asked, then she noticed Neeshka. "And who is your companion?"

Marcus smiled. "This is my girlfriend Neeshka," he said. "Last thing I expected to happen when I left for Neverwinter." _And that__'__s the truth. Having a lady in my life was the last thing on my mind. However, that__'__s not the case now. Neeshka is the first thing on my mind, most of the time,_ he thought with amusement.

"Well… you certainly have interesting taste in girls, Marcus," Retta said.

The harbourman laughed. "You know, I get that a lot. Can't imagine why."

Neeshka leaned over. "You know, it may have something to do with me being a tiefling. The traces of devil's blood and all."

Marcus grinned. "Probably, but we're not meant to let on we know that."

Neeshka just nodded. "Oh… like _that__'__ll _work."

Retta smiled. "Oh, take no notice of this old woman, Neeshka dear. I'm happy to see a lady in his life. I've always thought he spent far too much time on militia training. Marcus was always more interested in weapons than women," she said as the harbourman looked embarrassed. "The only girl he spent any time with was Amie, and that was when he was annoying our wizard Tarmas. Now, tell me, what brings you back here from Neverwinter?"

Marcus took a breath. "I found out about Lorne and why he never came back after the war. It's not good news, I'm afraid. I think we should go and sit down before I go any further."

Retta nodded solemnly as they walked into the living room of the house and sat down.

"I've met Lorne… but not in the way you would have liked," Marcus said slowly. "I had to fight him in a duel of honour. I was accused by the Luskan Ambassador to Neverwinter of slaughtering the village of Ember that lies just within Luskan territory near Port Llast. Lorne was working for the Luskans, why I don't know, but it had _changed _him. He wasn't the boy you remember, Retta."

Retta was silent for a while before she spoke. "I... find it hard to believe that Lorne was working for those Luskans. He was such a gentle boy. I don't doubt that you had no choice but to fight him. But I do wish there had been another way." Her eyes were sad.

"So do I, Retta so do I. It wasn't the most pleasant task I've had to do, but what would turn Lorne against Neverwinter?" Marcus asked, feeling helpless, thankful that Neeshka was there holding his hand.

"That question is something I shall be struggling with for quite a while. I knew he'd lost his taste for adventure from the few letters he sent home during the war. So many of his friends were lost, and he felt so helpless, especially because he was kept from the front lines," Retta said, trying to figure out what had happened to her oldest son.

Marcus raised his eyebrows at that. He'd always thought that Lorne had fought in the war. "He didn't fight in the war?" he asked.

Retta shook her head. "His captain told him he wasn't skilled enough, but Lorne suspected the man was just jealous. Lorne was strong and militia trained, he would have outshone them all, if they'd given him a chance. But none of that matters anymore," she said with a sad sigh.

This made Marcus frown in thought. "There was something… odd that happened when I faced him in the duel. I had the chance to talk to him. I told him you'd even asked Cormick to look for him. His reaction was too quick for me to really notice, but if I had to guess, I'd say he was ashamed, almost hateful."

"Oh, dear gods, no," Retta whispered. "Please tell me he's still not keeping that inside?" Marcus looked at her, confused. "He lost to Cormick in the Harvest Brawl many years ago. I'm still not certain if he blames himself or Cormick or both for that loss."

The harbourman nodded in understanding; he knew the tale well. "If that's the case, it may have been the start of the path he's gone down, and his experiences during the Luskan war would not have helped. It doesn't answer everything, but it explains a lot."

Retta was just managing to hold it together. "Thank you for coming here to tell me, Marcus. I know it wasn't easy for you. Do you think I could be alone now, please?"

Marcus nodded, understanding. "Certainly, Retta. I wish there was more I could do," he said, placing a hand on the old woman's shoulder. "We'll go up and see Bevil while we're here. I've heard he's had a rough time of it as well." Retta just nodded and waved them away, not trusting herself to speak.

* * *

As Marcus and Neeshka climbed the stairs, they could hear Retta start to weep for her lost son.

"Neesh, you better wait out here, alright?" Marcus said once they'd reached Bevil's room. "If Bevil is as jumpy as Georg and Merring seem to think, he may not take visitors so well. I'm not even sure how he'll react to me."

Neeshka nodded. "Okay, I'll wait out here."

Marcus knocked on Bevil's door. "Bevil, you in there?" he asked.

"Marcus!? Is that really you?" Bevil replied, unsure. He also sounded tired.

"I hope so, Bevil. Otherwise, I'm going to be really worried!" Marcus said, keeping his tone light.

"The door is open, you can come in if you like," Bevil said, still sounding weary.

* * *

Marcus closed the door to Bevil's room and took a look at his old friend. It seemed to the harbourman that Bevil hadn't slept well in weeks. He looked dead on his feet.

"Bevil, when was the last time you slept well? You look terrible," Marcus said, concerned.

Bevil managed to grin. "Good to see you, too," he sighed. "I don't sleep so good anymore, not with the night… dreams and all." He looked at Marcus with a slight smile, but his eyes were dull and flat. "So, what brings you back here?"

"Lorne, mainly," Marcus said. "You can ask your mother later about it, if you want to know. She just managed to hold it together when I told her. It wasn't the best news." Then he smiled. "And I had to let the village know that I'm a squire in the service to Neverwinter."

At that, Bevil's eyes lit up and Marcus saw some of the old life come back. "You're a _squire_? How in the hells did that happen? Come on, _details_!" he cried.

Marcus chuckled, and was about to explain when they both heard a yelp and a very annoyed Neeshka snarl, "You little _ratbags_! Which one of you geniuses pulled my tail, huh? That hurt like hells! Should I pull something of yours to see how _you _like it?"

"_Tail_?" Bevil asked, looking confused.

Marcus nodded. "You'll soon see, Bevil, old friend. I better deal with this, otherwise Neeshka may do something a little rash," he said, as he opened Bevil's door and strode out to confront Bevil's two younger siblings.

* * *

Marcus folded his arms over his chest and looked at Bevil's younger siblings sternly. "Alright, which one of you pulled Neeshka's tail?" he asked, not at all amused.

Bevil had come to his door and saw Neeshka for the first time. His eyes grew slightly; a girl with horns and a tail stood in the hallway, looking very upset and annoyed, gently rubbing the base of her tail which was still swishing about in agitation.

Bevil's siblings just looked at each other then back at Marcus innocently, and he sighed in frustration. "Fine, be that way then. But one or both of you are going to apologise to Neeshka." He lifted an eyebrow. "I'm waiting."

"What's it to you, huh?" Bevil's younger brother asked. "She your girlfriend or something?"

_Out of the mouth of babes have such truths been spoken,_ Marcus thought as he did his best not to grin. He could see Neeshka was also having a hard time. "Neeshka is an adventuring companion of mine, so I expect her to be treated with respect. Tieflings do not like their tails being touched, certainly not without prior warning and not in the manner of your little prank. Now apologise," Marcus said, his tone stern and a little harsh.

"We're sorry for pulling your tail, goat-girl," Bevil's brother said. Marcus just cringed.

"Don't you _ever_ call me goat-girl again," Neeshka growled, her red eyes flashing with anger as she took a step toward them. This was enough to send Bevil's younger siblings off to see their mother.

"Are you alright, Neesh?" Marcus asked, concerned.

"Yeah think so. Base of my tail is still a little sore, though," Neeshka said idly, rubbing her tail.

"I'm sure I could remedy that, sweetheart," Marcus said with a grin.

"I'm sure you could, harbour boy, but later." Neeshka nodded toward Bevil, who had a stupefied expression on his face.

"Ah, looks as though we'd better come clean, huh?" Marcus said as he turned to his old friend. "Bevil, Neeshka here is my girlfriend, though I wasn't going to tell those two ratbags that."

Bevil looked stunned for a time before he spoke. "It does sound as if you've had some adventures, Marcus."

"Just a few," Marcus admitted. "Come on, old friend, let's go back into your room and Neesh and I will tell you all about them."


	13. Return to West Harbour Part 2

"Bevil, what happened to you? Who attacked you?" Marcus finally asked the question he'd been dreading.

Bevil sighed. "After you left West Harbour, the night after... I was heading out to the Lannon place. Mom needed butter or some such. The Lannon house is out on the edge of the swamp, remember?" Marcus just nodded. "I… I remember it was a dark night, the moon was just shadowed by clouds." Bevil became nervous. "I… I didn't see them coming. Some cloaked figure... with some of those grey skinned dwarves who attacked West Harbour. They asked... a lot of questions. I didn't want to tell them anything." Bevil got a hunted look in his eyes. "But their knives were sharp and... I think I would've told them anything to make the pain stop. I'm _so_ sorry, Marcus..."

Marcus nodded. It was what he'd feared: githyanki. "I should be asking your forgiveness, old friend, for what you've suffered," he said softly. "It's because of me. Because of the shards I carry."

Bevil looked at his old friend, bewildered. "My forgiveness? It's nice of you to say… but those things went hunting you. Could've killed you..."

"_But _nothing, Bevil! What happened is _not_ your fault, understand?" Marcus said, cutting his friend off. "And, as for the githyanki trying to kill me, well… they did their best, but as you can see I'm still here, alive and kicking." _I__'__ve only got a power-mad Luskan mage to worry about now._

Bevil nodded. "I guess you're right, Marcus. You weren't a leader of the militia for nothing." Then he smiled, and as the smile reached his eyes, Marcus felt relief. Bevil was going to be alright, after all. "Good to see you've got some company of the female kind too. I wondered about you at times."

Marcus just chuckled. "Well… I guess I've never met the right girl for me." Then he looked lovingly at Neeshka. "Until now, that is." _It__'__s as cliché as they come, but it happens to be true in this case._ "Well, we better get a move on. I still want to visit Tarmas and Daeghun before we head back to Neverwinter. Which reminds me, you know how Tarmas was forever nagging me about becoming a mage?"

"Yeah, never knew why you didn't," Bevil said with a smile. "Sometimes I think you didn't want to just to spite him."

"Maybe… who knows? Anyway, while I was in Neverwinter, I had the chance to become a mage and I took it," Marcus said. "So when I tell Old Misery Guts, it'll give him something to crow about for the next week or so, I dare say."

"Okay… Don't let me keep you, squire," Bevil said in an exaggerated formal voice. Marcus just rolled his eyes and smiled, as he and Neeshka left to seek out Tarmas.

* * *

"Torio just walked up to the main gates of the city and surrendered to the watch?" Nasher asked, mystified.

"Apparently so, milord," Kari replied. "Something, or more likely someone, has her running scared. She had to pick the lesser of two evils: return to Luskan or come back to Neverwinter. We were the lesser evil, it seems," the shadowdancer said with a smile.

"It would seem she's outlived her usefulness to this Black Garius," Nasher mused aloud.

"That's what Aarin and I think too," Kari said. "For now we've given her a nice comfy cell in the castle dungeon, as it's the safest place we can think of to keep her."

Nasher looked up at the red-haired woman. "What do you think I should do, Kari? By rights, I could hang Torio for what she's done."

Kari shook her head. "That wouldn't be wise, milord. She's the only link we have to Black Garius, even if she isn't talking just yet. I'm sure she will in time, though," she added, then clapped her hands together. "Anyway, Squire Cole has the right to decide her fate, as she lost the trial by combat to him."

Nasher nodded. "That's true. See to it that Torio is looked after. She's a special prisoner, more under our protection than anything else. That is, until Squire Cole says otherwise." The ex-adventurer smiled. "Though, if my reading of the young man is correct, I suspect he'll have little interest in having Torio hung."

* * *

"It had better be important," Tarmas grumbled as he opened his front door. "Marcus?" the wizard asked, surprised to see the wayward harbourman. He also noticed the young tiefling woman standing at Marcus' side. "And this, if Merring is to be believed, is your girlfriend, yes?" he asked.

Marcus grinned. "Yes Merring is correct. Shocking, I know. This is Neeshka, Tarmas."

Tarmas just nodded. "You probably are here for some sort of reason, I imagine?" he asked, as he showed his two visitors in.

Marcus nodded, a slight smile showing. West Harbour's cranky wizard hadn't changed. "You could say that, Tarmas. I seem to recall Georg saying years ago that the reason you came here was because of the war," he said, sitting down.

Tarmas rolled his eyes. "That man talks _decidedly _too much," he said with a sigh. "It's true that _part _of the reason I came to West Harbour is because of the war. The battle that was fought here didn't involve heralds and flowery declarations. It involved the wholesale slaughter of two forces, with your village in the middle. The entire village was nearly destroyed and almost no one who stayed in West Harbour survived the night."

"Do you know anything else about the war?" Neeshka asked, much to Tarmas' surprise.

"Not as much as I'd like to, girl," the wizard admitted bitterly. "The whole affair is quite mysterious, I'm afraid. Demons were involved, that much is certain. But... curiously enough, there are no clear answers to who fought whom and why." Tarmas rubbed his chin in thought. "I think part of it is the remoteness of the location, yes?"

"Have you found out anything over the years?" Marcus asked.

The wizard shook his head. "I've investigated that matter for many years, searching for any clues about the demonic army. There haven't been any remarkable breakthroughs. There may never be any," Tarmas replied.

The harbourman grinned a little. "Well I might be able to help a bit. The githyanki that attacked the village were indeed after the item I took to Neverwinter from the ruins near here. I since found out what it was a part of." Marcus paused for effect as he saw he had Tarmas' attention. "It's part of the remains of a githyanki silver sword."

The wizard looked truly surprised. "Interesting. I was unaware of this. Perhaps I should question your foster father more closely about the events of that time. Daeghun leaves me to my business, and I leave him to his. But my research must come first," Tarmas mused.

"That would be unwise, Tarmas, especially after I'm done talking to him." The wizard looked at Marcus questioningly. "As you said, most people died that night so long ago. By rights, I should not be here. I'm one of the few who lived through that night, though I was too young to know anything. Even then, I didn't escape unscathed. You know of the scar I bear?" Marcus asked. Tarmas nodded. "That was made when a shard of the gith sword passed through my mother and embedded itself in me. I had a gaping wound for several days afterwards, but it sealed itself up. The only outward sign is the scar."

Tarmas looked dumbfounded. "You have a shard_ inside_ of you?" he asked, not quite believing.

Marcus nodded grimly. "Yes, and I never knew. Well… not until some mad gith high priestess tried to rip it out of me while I was still alive." Neeshka took Marcus' hand reassuringly, and he continued. "But Daeghun did, and he knew what really happened to my mother that night. I'm not leaving here until that old elf tells me _everything_," Marcus said, a hint of anger in his voice. _It hurts to have been lied to all your life, even if you can partly understand why, _he thought.

"As you say, I might be best leaving Daeghun alone for a day or two," Tarmas said, nodding his understanding. "As it is, you've given me much to think about. It's been good to see you again, Marcus. My only regret is you never had the desire to become a mage, as you had the interest in the art." The wizard rolled his eyes. "Unlike my new apprentice, who is barely adequate."

"It's been good to see you too, Tarmas. As for not becoming a mage… well, I've always preferred the weight on a sword in my hand," Marcus said as he stood up, murmuring an incantation under his breath and summoning a dire boar.

"Show-off," Neeshka remarked, grinning.

Tarmas looked surprised. "What? How?" he asked.

"I thought the _how _was obvious. I cast a summon creature spell," Marcus said with a grin. "I've been away for a long time, Tarmas, and Neverwinter is a big place. I found myself with the opportunity to learn from a wizard there, and Sand wouldn't quit bugging me about it, once he realised I knew more about magical theory than I should." The harbourman cast an accusing glare at his lover. "And you didn't help matters, sweetheart." Neeshka just looked back innocently, her eyes sparkling.

Tarmas raised his eyebrows. "Sand, you say?" he asked, surprised. "Moon elf, about so tall?" Tarmas asked, indicating Sand's height with his hand. "I thought he was… well… should have known he'd still be around."

"You know Sand?" the harbourman asked carefully.

"More like know _of _him, boy," Tarmas said. "I was led to believe he was dead."

Marcus nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself, as it seemed that Sand wasn't the only one with a past they were running away from. "Well, we better be on our way, Tarmas. Got the oh-so-cheery task of talking to Daeghun, next."

Tarmas just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. After Marcus and Neeshka had left, the wizard turned and went back to his experiments.

* * *

Both Shandra and Duncan stood as Sir Nevalle and Sir Grayson entered the Flagon along with two palace guards who were carrying two large chests.

"These are for the Squire Marcus," Sir Grayson said as the two chests were placed on a table. "One is a gift from Lord Nasher. The other, by tradition, is the equipment of the defeated Luskan champion, Lorne."

Shandra looked horrified at that. "You can't be serious? You're giving Marcus that brute's falchion? Are you both _mad_?" the farm girl asked angrily.

"It's tradition that the victor receives the defeated champion's possessions," Sir Nevalle replied calmly.

"Well, screw tradition, you idiot!" Shandra yelled. "Do you know what that weapon is responsible for? Lorne butchered Ember with that! And you want to give it to Marcus? You're both mad and Lord Nasher is off his rocker as well!" the farm girl said before she stormed out of the common room.

Duncan sighed. "Now look what you've done," he muttered, as he went after Shandra to see if she was alright.

Sir Nevalle looked a bit confused as he left with the two palace guards. Sir Grayson just shook his head as he followed them out and wondered yet again how Nevalle had gotten knighted.

* * *

"Well, here we are, Neesh," Marcus said as he led her up the path to Daeghun's house. "This is where I lived for the past twenty-two years," he said, looking up at the old timber house.

"Happy memories?" Neeshka asked.

"For the most part, yes," Marcus replied, taking her hand. "Come on. Daeghun's inside, most likely."

* * *

"Marcus, you have returned. You still have the shard, don't you? Make your visit brief… you put us all at risk with your return," Daeghun said as soon they entered.

"As welcoming as ever, I see, Daeghun," Marcus said dryly. "And I just don't have one shard now; I have quite the collection."

"Is that the sarcasm of humans that I detect? Sometimes it is so difficult to tell," Daeghun replied, as he put a hand behind his left ear and bent it forward slightly. "I sense one task only led to another. Such is the way of things. What seems a simple thread is often part of a complex tapestry." He sighed. "However, you seem more sure of your course than when you left. But do not stay here overlong. Predictability is something a hunter relishes in prey."

The harbourman nodded. "I want to know about my mother, Esmerelle," Marcus said flatly.

Daeghun let out a resigned sigh, realising he couldn't outrun the topic forever. "So Duncan told you? When she was a little older than you, adventure sought her out, as well. We met in a tavern and were drawn together by mutual necessity. There were others with us and some tales of our adventures were told. But not all such stories end well." The elf paused a moment, remembering events from long ago. "One day we both realised that of the original band, only we were left. I had had enough of death, especially of those close to me."

"Did my mother give up adventuring as well?" Marcus asked as he became aware that Neeshka was standing a little closer to him and was intertwining her fingers with his.

Daeghun shook his head. "No, your mother was spun of a different silk, and maintained her vitality in spite of loss. When I settled in West Harbour with my Shayla she would visit us from time to time." He sighed heavily. "A heart can heal over time. I had become content. One day, when Esmerelle returned, she was thick with child, you. Those were... good times." Daeghun looked at Marcus as if he knew the question the harbourman would surely ask. "And before you ask, she never mentioned any details about your father. And in my homeland, we respect such silence." The elf paused a moment. "However, Esmerelle always knew something could happen to her, and she entrusted to me for safekeeping some personal possessions of hers that are linked to your father. They are stored in a locked chest in my room. Here is the key. You can see them if you wish," Daeghun said as he handed the key to Marcus.

"At least you knew you had a mother, harbour boy," Neeshka said softly. "I never knew who my parents were."

Marcus could see tears in his lover's eyes. "That's really important to you, isn't it, Neesh? Knowing who your parents were and where you come from, sweetheart?" he asked gently.

Neeshka nodded as she put her head on the harbourman's shoulder. "Yeah. Though it sounds kind of lame if you think about it. After what we've been through, what _you__'__ve _been through, somehow it doesn't seem that important."

Marcus shook his head. "No it's not lame, Neesh, sweetheart. Far from it," he said, pulling the tiefling into a hug. "And if it's important to you, then it's important to me. I love you, Neesh. One day we'll find out about your parents, I promise you."

Neeshka smiled, trying to hold back tears. "Thanks, harbour boy. Means a lot to hear you say that," she said, burying her head in his shoulder. "Love you too, Cole," she murmured.

Daeghun watched the display of affection with some detachment. It had been many years since any feelings had been stirred within the old elf, but the ranger watched his foster son and his tiefling lover. Yes, there was something subtle in their body language that said they'd been physically intimate. He felt happiness and relief that his charge was capable of feeling the greatest emotion of all, even if Daeghun himself had never been able to show it.

Marcus turned back to Daeghun and saw in the elf's eyes acceptance of who Neeshka was. It made it easier for him to continue. "So, how did I come into your care?" he asked.

"When you were a child, you were so full of life. I could not have children, as much as my Shayla desired it. Your mother, Esmerelle, still felt the call of the road, but she stayed, for you. Yet she knew that death could come for her, as it had for our friends, our allies. So she exacted a promise from Shayla, a promise readily given, that if something should befall her, Shayla would care for you as her own. As fate would have it, the promise would be fulfilled, but not by my bride. By me," Daeghun explained. "Esmerelle never intended me to care for you; such warmth is difficult for me. But after the battle of West Harbour you had no one else, so I did as best as I was able." The elf smiled ruefully. "I see other fathers and marvel at how they do it. If it was ever in me, it was lost long ago, buried in the graves of fallen friends." He sighed. "I know your years with me have not been easy ones, yet I hope you have grown up well, in spite of me."

"I think I can say that the harbour boy hasn't turned out too badly," Neeshka said with a grin. "He's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time," she said, hugging her man.

"Thank you, Daeghun, for telling me. I know it wasn't easy for you," Marcus said.

"And I'm glad I could finally speak of it, my foster son," Daeghun smiled. "And that you've found some happiness in your new life."

* * *

Marcus led Neeshka upstairs and showed her his old room. It hadn't changed since that night so many months ago. Then they walked into Daeghun's room to find the chest he'd spoken of. It was small and had been scorched, a sure sign that it had survived the battle of West Harbour.

"Here we go, Neesh," Marcus said as he put the key in the lock and turned. The lock clicked open and Marcus slowly opened the lid to reveal the chest's contents, of which there were few.

There was a red and blue uniform of some sort, neatly folded. Its colours had faded with age: the red was more of a pink and the once rich dark blue was pale and lifelessly dull. Next to the garment were two swords in ornate scabbards; Marcus recognised them as a rapier and a scimitar. Next to these lay a long brass tube. As he picked it up, the harbourman discovered that it was a spy glass, the kind a ship's captain would use. Marcus turned the instrument over in his hand inspecting it; it was well crafted. He noticed that it bore an inscription on its surface and brought it closer to his eyes to see if he could decipher it.

"These were your mother's things?" Neeshka asked softly, in awe. She recognised the uniform, even if the colours were long faded. She'd bet all her gold that if she or Marcus were to lift it out, they'd find that it was meant for a woman to wear.

The harbourman nodded. "Yes, according to Daeghun. But if my mother was an adventurer, what was she doing with things that a seafarer would use?" he asked curiously.

"Just as a guess, but I think she was both, harbour boy," Neeshka said. "Given that that's the uniform of the Bloodsailors," she said, pointing to the garment.

Marcus turned to her. "Bloodsailors?" he asked. "Can't say I've ever heard of them."

Neeshka smiled sadly. "You wouldn't have, Marcus, as there aren't many of them left now. Not after the plague, the war with Luskan and Callik's treachery of Vengaul." She shrugged. "I don't even know if the old scoundrel is still alive."

Marcus looked amused. "Alright, smarty, so who were the Bloodsailors?" he asked.

Neeshka grinned, as these were happy memories for once. "They were a well organised adventuring group that tended to do things outside the law at times, and were formed and led by Vengaul Bloodsail." The tiefling smiled. "He was a loveable scoundrel, a showman, who had a flare for the dramatic. His friendly rivalry with Nasher both before and after he became lord of Neverwinter was legend." For the first time since Marcus had met the tiefling, Neeshka looked genuinely happy and relaxed talking about something from her past. "Vengaul knew just how far he could push Nasher before he'd push back. It was all about showman and one-upmanship with Vengaul. He loved nothing more than to make Nasher's life interesting, but he was always careful not to upset the apple cart, well not too much." Neeshka then became sad, her eyes downcast. "Then the plague hit the city and Callik turned on the old man, the ungrateful… When it was all over, the Bloodsailors were broken and scattered." She looked up at Marcus sadly. "Then Moire moved in on what had been Bloodsailor turf and the rest you pretty much know." Neeshka sighed. "I hope the old fool is alive, you know? Vengaul was good to me."

Marcus pulled his lover into a hug to comfort her as best he could. "Oh gods, Neesh, you've lived through a lot, haven't you? Plague, war and the hardships that follow them," he said, saddened by it all. Marcus was amazed at how normal Neeshka seemed after all she'd been through in her short life.

"Yeah, it's been a hell of a ride," Neeshka said, then, eager to change the subject, she noticed the inscription on the spy glass Marcus was holding. "Hey… isn't there something engraved on this spy glass, harbour boy?"

"There is, but you distracted me for a change, kitten," Marcus said, as he handed her the glass.

Neeshka read the inscription aloud. "To E.C. with love from V.B." She slowly looked up at Marcus. "Your mum's name was Esmerelle Cole, yeah?" The harbourman nodded. "And the only V.B. I know of would be Vengaul Bloodsail…"

"Torm's teeth!" Marcus exclaimed softly. "Are you saying that he might be my father?"

Neeshka didn't know what to think. "He might be…" she said cautiously. "He was known as quite the ladies' man and he obviously cared about your mum to give her this," she said, waving the spy glass about. "I've always wondered where you'd got your silver tongue from… and now I think we know," she said playfully. "I mean, if you are Vengaul's son, it explains a lot, you know?"

"Thanks… I think," the harbourman said. He was having a hard time taking all of this in.

"You know, I _like _the sound of Marcus Bloodsail. It has a ring to it, don't you think, harbour boy?" Neeshka asked, her eyes sparkling.

Marcus grinned. "Hmm, it sounds alright… and it also explains why I find you so irresistible," he said, nuzzling her neck. "But I like the sound of Neeshka Bloodsail better, you know?" The tiefling gasped. "No? How about Neeshka Cole, then?" Marcus said, a smile playing on his lips.

It took Neeshka several seconds to get her mouth to work. "You… you can't be serious, Marcus," she said, eyes growing huge.

The harbourman looked his lover in the eyes. "I'm deadly serious, Neesh, sweetheart. One day, when and if our lives settle down enough, I fully intend to make an honest woman out of you. I want you as my wife, Neeshka… that is, if you'll have me, of course." Before the tiefling could answer, he placed a finger on her lips. "No, don't say anything yet if you don't want to. I'll wait for your answer." He smiled. "After all, it was you who told me when you were ready to take things to, ah… a more physical level, shall we say?"

Neeshka just looked at him, bewildered. He'd just turned her world upside down… again. As she leaned in and kissed him passionately, she thought she _liked _the idea of being with someone for the rest of her life. She really rather did.

* * *

"There is one last thing I want to do before we head back to Neverwinter," Marcus said softly as they left Daeghun's house. "And that's to visit Amie's grave." Neeshka nodded her understanding.

It didn't take them long to reach the small graveyard where Amie now rested. Marcus knelt by her grave. _Why couldn__'__t the girl have listened to Tarmas or me? If she had, I wouldn__'__t need to be doing this_, the harbourman thought.

"Hey, Amie, guess who. I made it back at last. Been busy like you wouldn't believe," Marcus said, even if it felt a little strange talking to a dead person. "Anyway… found out what the attack on the village was about. The githyanki mage that killed you was after a shard of one of their silver swords. And speaking of that gith mage, you'll be pleased to know that my friend Khelgar killed him when we at last caught up with him. That made Bevil a bit happier at least." Marcus took Neeshka's hand and pulled her forward a little. "Anyway, it's not all doom and gloom. There is someone I want you to meet. I think the two of you would have gotten on well," he said to Amie's headstone. "This is Neeshka, my girlfriend. Shocking, I know. Me with a girlfriend." Neeshka squeezed his hand. "Anyway… that's it, I think. Oh, and I'm a squire now. We better be getting back to Neverwinter as Lord Nasher will have duties for me. I hope you're at peace, Amie… and I miss you, my friend," Marcus said as he stood up. _Gods that was hard._

Neeshka surprised the harbourman by putting her arms round him and hugging him for all she was worth. "You really do miss her, don't you, Marcus?" she asked.

Marcus nodded sadly. "Yes I do. Bevil and Amie were my only real friends in the village. Amie was like my kid sister. You two would have got on well being about the same age and all," he said.

Neeshka looked up. "Oh, and how old do you think I am, harbour boy?" she asked.

Marcus shrugged his shoulders "Eighteen, twenty at the most," he said.

Neeshka smiled. "Wrong, harbour boy, I'm twenty-two. At least that's how old I think I am. Birthdays didn't seem to mean much most of my life," she said with a frown. "I'm not really sure how old I actually am."

Marcus kissed her softly, unable to say anything to comfort the woman he loved. _Something else I'll have to try and make up for her,_ he thought. They spent about the next ten minutes stood before Amie's grave holding one another, before they headed out, back to Neverwinter.


	14. His father is who?

"Are you sure this is wise, Duncan?" Shandra asked as she looked around the common room of the Flagon, which had taken on a festive mood. "Sure, I know we need to mark the occasion of Marcus escaping with his life, but I don't think he really feels like doing that."

Elanee nodded in agreement. "He, after all, had to face a man who was from his own village. I do not think that Marcus would feel compelled to celebrate that."

The innkeeper let out a sigh. "I just don't know what else to do, Shandra. He needs to let loose somehow and I'd rather he did it here than at some stuffy noble's house," Duncan said, eyeing the pile of invitations that had been accumulating during the harbourman's absence.

Casavir tried not to smile at Duncan's remark about stuffy nobles. "Marcus can pick and choose which parties he attends for the most part. However, there are two that he must attend, the one at Castle Never and the one being hosted by Sir Grayson." The paladin looked thoughtful for a moment. "I suspect that the majority of the remaining invitations have been extended as a courtesy only… if the language in them is anything to go by."

"What makes you say that, Casavir?" Khelgar asked. "You think they'd turn him away if he showed up after being invited?" The dwarf was having a hard time understanding.

Bishop snorted. "It's not our leader they'd be turning away, is it, paladin? But his lady friend, the she-devil, they don't want her anywhere near their posh homes."

Casavir let out a sigh. "Despite Bishop's… choice of words, he is correct. The language of the invitations suggests that most of the nobles view Neeshka as beneath their contempt, in spite of the fact that it is obvious to anyone with eyes how Marcus feels about her." _And one of the reasons I became disillusioned with the nobility._

"Yes. Neverwinter politics is nothing but complicated," Sand observed. "The only two invitations that mention Neeshka by name, or any of us for that matter, are the ones from Lord Nasher and Sir Grayson, which is not too surprising really." The moon elf cocked his head to one side. "And I suspect that Nasher is up to something. Notice how his and Sir Grayson's festivities are the last two to be held?" the wizard said, indicating the dates. "Nasher is testing the rest of the nobility for some reason. It's not obvious, unless you know how he works. The party at Castle Never will be important in more ways than one. If my intuition is correct, there may be more than a few nobles with the figurative egg on their faces." The moon elf had a very mischievous smile on his lips.

* * *

Vengaul Bloodsail let out a deep sigh as he turned away from the window of the small house he'd bought on his return to Neverwinter months ago. It broke his heart to see the city he loved in such a state, though he knew Nasher was doing his best. What really hurt was the state the docks were in. What he wouldn't give to have the Bloodsailors back at full strength! Then he'd show the petty dock thugs who was boss. As things stood, there was only him, his beloved Dara'nei and twenty-four others, the remains of the proud and noble Bloodsailors, an adventuring company that had numbered two hundred, before the plague, Callik's betrayal and the war with Luskan.

The old sailor sat down, looking across at his elven wife, Dara'nei. "What happened to the docks? Where's the pride in the place?" he asked sadly.

The elf shook her head. "I do not know, but I have been able find out what happened after our flight. A woman named Moire took over the docks and she was brutal, no tact at all. She and her gang had almost driven the Watch from the district entirely when she did something very stupid. She attacked the main Watch post in the Docks directly."

Vengaul snorted. "No sense of style, just like Callik. The Watch would have retaliated after that."

Dara'nei smiled a little. "Yes, they did, but not the way you'd expect. The Watch dismantled Moire's organisation from the bottom up and ultimately captured her. However, she has since been released, for what reason I cannot say. The word on the street is that she wants revenge on the Watchman who captured her."

Vengaul looked surprised. "Sounds like something I'd do, not something I'd have thought of from one of Nasher's lapdogs, particularly that Captain Brelaina woman. She is too by the book."

Dara'nei chuckled. If her husband was poking fun at Nasher, he was in a good mood. "It wasn't the Watch as such, but a small group of adventurers acting for the Watch. It seems the group's leader, a young human named Marcus Cole, is a full member of the Watch and holds the rank of lieutenant…." She became worried at her husband's glazed look. "Vengaul, dearest… what's wrong?" she asked.

The old swashbuckler blinked several times, as memories from long ago assaulted him. "I knew a woman many years ago, named Esmerelle Cole. A fine adventurer and one of the best ship captains I'd ever had." He looked up at Dara'nei with sadness in his eyes. "I loved her dearly and wanted to marry her but never did, and to this day I don't know why. She came to me one day and said it was time for her to leave the Bloodsailors, so she left and I never saw her again." He smiled wistfully. "Perhaps it's the delusions of an old mind… but I wonder if this Marcus Cole is her son." Dara'nei didn't know what to say, so she simply hugged her husband.

* * *

"What's the occasion, Duncan?" Marcus asked as he looked around the _Flagon, _which seemed very festive all of a sudden. It hadn't looked like this when he and Neeshka had left for West Harbour about a week ago.

The innkeeper rubbed the back of his neck. "I was planning a bit of a knees up, seeing as you won that duel and all."

"That's nothing worth really celebrating, Duncan, but I do appreciate the thought," Marcus replied with a sigh. "So what else has been going on?"

"See, I told you, Duncan," Shandra said as she came over with a pile of official-looking envelopes. "Here, Marcus, you've apparently proven to be the flavour of the month with the nobles," she said, handing the harbourman the invitations.

Marcus frowned a little as he began looking through the letters. "All because I had to fight a duel… but what about Neesh, and the rest of you?" he asked. "The only invitations that mention the rest of you are the ones from Sir Grayson and Lord Nasher."

"Does that really surprise you, harbour boy?' Neeshka asked.

Marcus sighed. "No, not really. But it is disappointing. Still, if they don't want you there, Neesh, I'm not going either. We're a package deal. They get both of us, or they don't. So it looks like we'll just be going to Sir Grayson's and Lord Nasher's party."

"Hey, I've got an idea to teach these snotty nobles a lesson!" Shandra said. "Why don't the two of you get dressed up as if you were going. Turn up, they make a fuss about Neeshka, and you just say 'oh well, in that case… bye'." The farm girl was grinning.

"I don't think that would make much difference, Shandra," came Casavir's deep voice that was filled with mirth. "But it would make Neeshka feel better, I would think."

"Dammed right it would!" Neeshka cried. "They better get used to the idea of a tiefling in the nobility. Not that I'm all that noble. Far from, it in fact. Which kind of makes it funny."

"You're far more noble than you give yourself credit for, Neeshka," Casavir said. The tiefling's face scrunched up in puzzlement. "You have always known what's 'right' and 'wrong'. Even if you have made your living by thievery and misdirection, you have never intentionally harmed anyone. That alone says much about you. You are noble in your own way, Neeshka. All you need is to believe in yourself," the paladin said, giving Neeshka's shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

* * *

Dumal Erard, founder of Helm's Hold and one of its few survivors when the hold was taken over by Desther and his 'Order of the Eye' to unleash an unholy plague on the city of Neverwinter, re-read the personally written invitation from Lord Nasher again, to make certain he was reading it correctly.

Dumal sighed. He had indeed read it correctly, but it was the line that referred to the squire's consort being present that seemed a little out of place. Nasher had also suggested that she may have been in the care of the Hold at some point. Was he trying to warn him about something?

Dumal stood from his desk and walked to the large bookcase, looking carefully along its shelves until he found the tome he was looking for. He carefully lifted out the book and then returned to his desk. This tome had details of all the children who had ever been in the care of the Hold. Dumal spent the next few minutes looking through the pages until he smiled, almost sadly, when his finger came to rest near one name in particular.

"So, Neeshka, after all this time you've came back to haunt me, have you?" Dumal asked softly, for he remembered the feisty tiefling well. He frowned. They were meant to be her guardians and protectors. Instead they'd violated her in the worst possible way, by suppressing her natural arcane abilities when they'd started to reveal themselves. He'd have much preferred to let the natural order of things progress and would have given her over to a mage for training. Ophala Cheldarstorn, of the Many-Starred Cloaks, would have jumped at the chance to train such a young and promising mage. Sadly, however, Dumal had been outvoted on that idea simply because Neeshka was a tiefling.

Dumal let out a weary sigh. "It seems our mutual past is about to catch up with us, Neeshka. I just pray to Helm that you can forgive and that I can make you understand." He stood and placed the tome back in the bookcase.

* * *

"Marcus, lad, what's the matter?" Duncan asked as he sat down. "You've been subdued ever since you came back from West Harbour." The party was in full swing but Marcus had been sitting off to one side, brooding.

"Yeah… just got a lot on my mind is all," the harbourman replied. "Do you anything about my father, not Daeghun, but my real father?"

The innkeeper shook his head. "No, your mother didn't talk about her adventuring life much, if at all, as I recall; and as far as I know she made no mention as to who your father was."

"Figures. I don't suppose she wanted to advertise she was a Bloodsailor. Not something to shout from the rooftops, now is it?" Marcus asked with a slight smile.

"Bloodsailor? You can't be serious, lad!" Duncan said, shocked.

"Oh, I am, Duncan. I have her old uniform to prove it, as well as a few other things." Marcus paused a moment, as he fingered the spyglass he'd taken to wearing on his belt. "Also, it seems that my father might be none other than Vengaul Bloodsail himself. That's just going to make Nasher's day, now isn't it?" he asked.

"How… no, must be some mistake!" Duncan replied, shaking his head.

"I don't think so, Duncan. Among mother's things was a captain's spyglass that bears an inscription that suggests that when my mother was given it, she and Vengaul were close. Now I may not be his child… but my mother suddenly turns up at Daeghun's, pregnant and with the possession that I now have that she entrusted into Daeghun's care?" Marcus let out a sigh. "Thing is, Neeshka doesn't know if the old scoundrel is still alive. But we both know someone who might, Kari. We're going to go and see her later and see if we can get to the bottom of this little mystery. Am I the son of the infamous Vengaul Bloodsail, or is it just coincidence?"

* * *

"You've been the life of the party, haven't you?" Neeshka asked as she sat next to the harbourman. "You know that necklace you got me? I think it's got silver in it. I'm beginning to itch."

"Silver?" Marcus asked. "What… oh, you bloody idiot, Cole," he muttered, whacking himself on the forehead with the palm of his hand.

"Hey, don't worry about it, harbour boy," Neeshka said with a smile. "I really liked the thought behind it. But what are we going to do with it, seeing as I can't wear it?"

Marcus rubbed his beard in thought. "Well, I guess you could give it to Shandra or Elanee?" he suggested. "Which reminds me; you still got that big ruby?"

Neeshka nodded. "Yeah, still got it, why?"

"How about we find a good jeweler and get something made up for you for the party at Castle Never? We've got the dress covered, sweetheart, so got to get the accessories, you know," Marcus said, his eyes sparkling.

Neeshka couldn't help but giggle. "You really are determined to spoil me, aren't you, harbour boy?"

"Dammed right I am," Marcus replied.

"Alright… but only after we've seen Kari about you-know-who," Neeshka said as she stood up. "I'm going to give this necklace to Duncan so he can give it to Shandra," she announced.

"Now _this _I have to see," Marcus said, as he too stood and followed.

* * *

"What can I do for you, Neeshka, lass?" Duncan asked as the tiefling sauntered up.

"Nothing really, but I thought you might like this," Neeshka said as she dropped the necklace on the countertop.

Duncan looked stunned as he picked up the fine silver necklace. "Where did you get this?" he asked. "And why are you giving it to me?"

"Marcus bought it for me when we were away; only thing is, there is silver in it," Neeshka said "And… well, me and anything silver generally don't get on so well."

"But what would I do with it?" the innkeeper asked, looking puzzled.

Neeshka leaned over and whispered. "Thought you might give it to Shandra, you know? Make you look good and all." All Duncan could do was stare after the tiefling as she turned and walked away.

* * *

"You two can not be serious!?" Kari exclaimed. "Please tell me you're joking," she said, looking from the harbourman to the tiefling and back again.

"I wish we knew. That's why we want your help. Neeshka doesn't know if Vengaul is alive or not, and it might just be coincidence," Marcus said, not convinced.

"Somehow, with the luck you've been having, Marcus, my friend, I doubt it," Kari replied with a shake of her head. "Nasher is just going to _love_ this!" she said with a grin. "His newest squire is none other than the son of his old nemesis, Vengaul Bloodsail." Kari couldn't contain her mirth; she'd met the man once very briefly. "Despite all Nasher's bluster to the contrary, I think he liked the old swashbuckler, though being Lord of a city he couldn't show it too much."

"Well, we don't know for certain, but it looks that way," Marcus said, feeling very self-conscious.

Neeshka grinned. "I think it would be cool to see the Bloodsailors take back the docks. I can remember when they pretty much ran the place and the docks were safe. Not like now, though the harbour boy has helped."

Kari roared with laughter. "Now _that _would give the old man kittens, though I think Nasher would welcome Vengaul back… maybe not with open arms, but he'd be happier knowing who's skulking around the docks. He was good for stability," she said, grinning. "Leave it with me and I'll see if I can find the old scoundrel."

"Neeshka, have you given any thought to the job offer Kari made to you?" Aarin asked quietly. "We do not wish to pressure you, but we suspect Lord Nasher is wanting to do more than just celebrate Marcus's victory come the ball at Castle Never."

Neeshka swallowed. "Are you saying he's wanting to say I'm his new spymaster? Make it official-like?"

Aarin nodded. "Yes, that's what we think he wishes to do, though he's never said as such. So do you wish to become Neverwinter's newest spymaster?"

Neeshka looked over at the harbourman with a slightly panicked look on her face. Marcus just gave her a hug. "This is your call, sweetheart. I'll support you whatever you decide, but I say go for it."

The tiefling nodded slowly as she thought her answer over carefully. Neeshka also remembered what Casavir had said to her. After several minutes she turned back to Kari and Aarin, a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. "Well, if Nasher is crazy enough to have me, I'm crazy enough to accept," Neeshka said.

Kari's reaction was immediate; she stepped forward and hugged the tiefling. "I knew you wouldn't let me down, Neeshka," she said, grinning.

* * *

Master Jeweller Rynne Aure looked up as he heard the door to his shop open, and a young couple walked in, arm in arm. Rynne looked them over as they looked at some of his work in one of the display cases. They were both dressed fairly simply, though their clothes were good quality. He also noted that both were armed. They both had a sword hanging from their belts, the man had a longsword, the woman a rapier. This led Rynne to believe they were adventurers or such, people used to having their weapons close at hand.

Rynne then realised something unusual about the woman: she had a tail! Why hadn't he noticed it sooner? As the young couple turned to walk over to where he was seated as his workbench, he could tell that the woman was, indeed, a tiefling. Rynne recognised the pair as he, like most of Neverwinter, had been at the tournament grounds for the duel. They were Squire Marcus Cole and Neeshka.

"Good day, Squire. How can I be of service?" Rynne asked, inclining his head slightly.

Marcus was momentarily thrown but recovered quickly enough as he placed the large ruby on the table. "We were hoping you may be able to do something with this?" he asked.

Rynne picked up the gem and studied it for a time. "Hmm," he said, looking at Neeshka for a moment. "You're wanting something for your lady?" he asked Marcus, who nodded. "Anything in mind?"

"I was thinking of perhaps a necklace, earrings and a bracelet?" the harbourman replied.

The jeweller nodded. "That shouldn't be a problem. I can perhaps also manage a ring and brooch as well. Then your lady will have a full set of matching jewellery."

Neeshka blushed. "Wow… um, that'd be cool," she murmured.

Ryan smiled a little. "Normally I'd suggest a silver setting but I think gold would be better, say with mithral mounts?"

The tiefling's eyes went wide as she glanced at the harbourman.

"The cost isn't important, Neesh. This is something special for you. I'm going to make sure you're the envy of Lord Nasher's Ball. You, sweetheart, are going to be the loveliest woman there, if I have any say in the matter."

"You really _are _spoiling me, harbour boy?" Neeshka asked, smiling.

"Yes, and I have to say you're worth it, Neesh," Marcus said.

"Glad someone thinks so," the tiefling replied a little shyly.

* * *

"Kari, Aarin? What brings the both of you here?" Nasher asked, looking up from his never-ending paperwork.

"We've just had an… interesting conversation with Marcus and Neeshka," Kari replied, a bemused expression on her face.

"That's one way to put it," Aarin observed dryly.

"Explain," Nasher said.

"First of all, Neeshka has agreed to be your new spymaster. However, Marcus is a war orphan. His mother was killed years ago in the war with the King of Shadows. He never knew who his father was," Kari explained.

Nasher frowned a little. "Why am I sensing a 'but'?" he asked.

Kari grinned. "But it seems his mother had some possessions that have thrown some light on who Marcus's father might be." The red-haired woman did her best to keep a straight face. "Milord, your newest squire may well be the son of none other than Vengaul Bloodsail."

"You have to be joking," Nasher said, after a long pause.

"That we don't know," Aarin said. "Kari has agreed to see if she can locate Vengaul, as it might be nothing more than a coincidence, but if he _is _Marcus's father, he's going to enjoy teasing you about the fact and, knowing him, probably in a _very _public way."

Nasher sighed. "You're right about that," he said with a slight smile. "It'll be good to see the old rascal again after all these years."


	15. The Ball Part 1

"Kari, what are you up to?" Aarin asked as he folded his arms over his chest. "You've been unusually secretive the past few days."

"Now, why would you think I was up to anything, Aarin, dear?" Kari replied, innocently.

"Because I know you, and you have _that_ look in your eyes," Aarin said with some amusement. "I can't help but think this is all linked to Vengaul."

"It might be, it mightn't be," Kari said as she pulled on her cloak. "I'm off to see the old scoundrel, incidentally. He wasn't that hard to find."

"Just don't do anything too outrageous, please?" Aarin almost begged.

Kari had the door to their house open as she looked over her shoulder. "You mean like inviting Vengaul to Nasher's Ball?" she asked with a smirk. "I'll try not to." The twinkle in her eyes said the exact opposite.

The door closed with a thunk and Aarin let out a sigh. "So much for a dignified evening," he muttered.

* * *

"So, Nevalle, you've been to some of the other nobles' festivities… how did they go?" Nasher asked as he sat back in his favorite chair in his study.

"Everything went well enough… until Squire Cole and Neeshka arrived, dressed in their armour, I might add," Nevalle replied, slightly amused. "As I'm sure you're aware, the majority of the nobles view both of them, particularly Neeshka, with little respect. It was amusing to watch them being polite to the Squire, who in turn was just as polite when he told them if his lady couldn't attend then neither would he, and then they left." The blond haired knight sat across from Nasher, a glass of port in his hand.

Sir Grayson chuckled. "I also got the impression that many of the house staff found the situation quite humorous. Their employers made to look foolish by a common man and his girlfriend…"

"Their humiliation is far from over," Nasher said with a smile. "They are all in for a shock when they attend my Ball tonight. Tell me, Sir Grayson, how did your party go?"

"It went well, milord. Squire Marcus and Neeshka were present when the first of the guests arrived, which naturally created something of a stir. They were not wearing their armour, but acceptable evening wear. I suspect we'll be seeing their finery tonight," Sir Grayson said. He too was seated comfortably. "Neither seemed to notice some of the less flattering remarks made. That said, I'm certain Neeshka made what could be called a rude gesture with her tail on more than one occasion," Sir Grayson said with a smile.

Nasher chuckled with amusement. "They'll learn the finer points of being in the nobility over time, but it's pleasing to see that they are being themselves, not pretending to be something they're not. The rest of the nobility could learn a thing or two from them."

* * *

Kari knocked on the door of Vengual's house, which was opened by Dara'nei who looked stunned to see the former spymaster.

"Kari? Is that you?" the elven woman asked.

"Hi, Dara'nei. It's been a few years since we last saw each other," Kari said, as her eyes flicked to the woman's left hand. "Is that roguish husband of yours home? It's him I've come to see, actually."

Dara'nei nodded as she let Kari into the house and closed the door. Then the elven woman led her to where Vengaul was sitting in the living room.

"I somehow always knew we'd meet again, Kari. However, I never expected it to be so long before our next meeting. It's good to see you again, my dear," Vengaul said. "So has that old stick in the mud told you to get me to clear off?"

Kari laughed. "No, Nasher isn't the reason I'm here," she said. "This is going to seem like a bizarre question, but do you know if you have a son?" she asked, getting right to the point.

Vengaul laughed. "Ha! I wish. I don't have any children that I'm aware of." He looked Kari over carefully. "But you're serious about this, aren't you?"

The former spymaster nodded. "Yes, I am. Either it's a set of exceptional circumstances, and just a coincidence or…" She looked the old man in the eyes. "Or Marcus Cole _is_ your son."

"Are you certain of this?" Dara'nei asked after a long silence.

Kari shook her head. "No, not really. Marcus isn't, and neither is Neeshka."

Vengaul leaned forward a little. "Did you say Neeshka? I lost track of her during the plague and the trouble with Callik. Is she well?" he asked.

"So you know the tiefling, huh?" Kari asked, amused. "Why am I not surprised by this?"

"Do I! I was the closest thing she had to a father figure after she'd run away from those Helmites," Vengaul said, recalling the past. "I can still remember her being found by Christov and Jalek in my warehouse. Poor child was scared stiff. Mind you, so would you be, if you were an eight year old runaway with a half-orc like Jalek towering above you."

"Yes, Neeshka is fine and in good hands, not that she can't look after herself, of course," Kari said with a smile. "Marcus has taken quite the shine to her, I have to say." That was an understatement, but Vengaul would see for himself soon enough. "As to your question of whether or not Marcus is your son, I think its best you talked to him about that," Kari said as she passed an official looking envelope to the sailor. "Come to Castle Never tonight, there is a Ball being held. That invitation will get the two of you in," she said as she stood to leave. "Don't even think of asking how I got my hands on that," the shadowdancer said, her green eyes dancing.

Vengaul just sat there looking at the invitation; he never noticed that Kari had left. He was too busy trying to wrap his mind round the fact that he might have a son, a fully grown son.

* * *

A knock sounded on the door to Nasher's study.

"Come in," Nasher said.

The door opened and in walked Sir Callum, closely followed by Katriona, who understandably looked more than a little nervous.

"Ah, it's good to see you made it, Sir Callum! Who is the lovely lady with you?" Nasher inquired. Katriona managed not to blush; she was a soldier, after all.

Callum grinned. "You know me, milord, dwarves never miss a chance to celebrate. This is Katriona, one of Casavir's men," he said. "Best drill sergeant I've ever had. My Greycloaks actually know which end of the sword to sick in the enemy now," the dwarf said, amused.

"Ah, so that's how you ended up with a hundred or so extra troops," Nasher said. "Have they proven to be useful?"

"More than useful. It was as if Tyr himself knew what I needed and sent them to me," Callum replied. "My Greycloaks are getting better by the day. The orcs are still disorganized as well."

Nasher nodded as he turned his attention to Katriona. "So I take it you served with Casavir for some time then?" he asked.

"Yes, milord," Katriona said with a nod. "He arrived seemingly out of nowhere when we needed him, and gave us hope, and then just as suddenly he left again." She hoped she didn't sound too sad.

Nasher smiled knowingly. "I see. Well, I have it on good authority that Casavir will be attending the ball tonight, and as far as I'm aware he has no prior commitments."

Katriona's smile positively lit up the room.

* * *

"Neeshka, I can't believe you and Marcus went to those snotty nobles' parties in your armour!" Shandra said with amusement. Elanee's room had become the girls changing room for the ball.

Neeshka giggled. "Well, we couldn't see the point in getting dressed up for nothing and the harbour boy _did _polish his watch armour just because."

Elanee cursed under her breath. "Neeshka, try and hold still. Fitting this gown on you isn't that easy."

"Oh sorry, El, I'm not used to wearing something so fancy," the tiefling said, looking down at the dark forest green dress she was wearing. The druid made final adjustments so it would fit Neeshka perfectly.

"Looks like we've run into a small problem," Elanee said, as she bent to pick up a pair of scissors "Your tail. I need to make a hole for it. It's almost a crime to cut such fine material, but you need to be comfortable."

Neeshka let out a sigh. "Yeah, that's the downside to having a tail. You need to have your clothes altered."

The druid looked up and smiled. "Don't worry, Neeshka, by the time I'm done, everyone will think it was made just for you." The tiefling just blushed in response.

"I'd like to know just how you got that dress, Neeshka dear," Serena said as she too got ready for the Ball at Castle Never. "I'd have thought you're not really the kind of girl who usually wears dresses."

Neeshka looked over her shoulder at the priestess and grinned. "I'm not. But when we passed through Highcliff on our way back to West Harbour, the harbour boy said I needed at least one good evening gown." She smiled at the memory. "We bickered and argued about it for quite a while, drew a bit of a crowd too with it, being market day and all. Anyway, in the end we bought this and two or three others for less formal occasions, much to my dismay. Though I have to say it's nice to be pampered." Neeshka's eyes showed just how fortunate she thought she was.

"Hang on; you got _that_ in Highcliff?" Shandra said, amazed. Not only was Neeshka's gown a beautiful dark green, it also had fine detailing in gold that looked elven. It showed off the tiefling's figure without being tacky, and there was just a hint of cleavage. "And are you sure Marcus is feeling alright?" she asked. "I mean, a man who actually _willingly _spends gold on women's clothes? Do you realise how rare they are?" the farm girl chuckled.

Neeshka smiled. "Well we got lucky, really lucky. Seemed one of the merchants that was there had gotten stuck, thanks to the roads being impassable, and some of her stock was pretty fancy, so Marcus went looking though the stuff and found this."

"There." Elanee straightened. "How does that feel, Neeshka?"

Neeshka put her tail through the hole that the druid had made and tried moving it about. "Oh, thanks El; that feels sooo much better."

Elanee nodded with a smile. "Good, now kindly pull your tail back through so I can finish the embroidery. I want to make it look like this gown was made just for you," the druid said as Neeshka moved her tail out of the way.

Serena grinned. "That's not all he spent gold on. You want to see what's in this case," she said, holding up a small wooden case that held Neeshka's custom made jewellery.

Neeshka turned pink. "Go on, show them, they'll see soon anyway."

Serena laid the case flat, opened it and turned so both Elanee and Shandra could see the contents.

The farm girl gasped. "Gods! How much_ did_ he spend?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. Lying on dark blue velvet were the most exquisite set of matched jewellery that Shandra had ever seen: ring, brooch, bracelet, a necklace and a pair of earrings. All had a number of rubies set in mithral mounts against the gold of the base item.

"More gold than I'd seen in a long time," Neeshka said softly.

Elanee stepped closer to look and smiled when she saw the designs on the gold work. Being an elf, she easily recognised her peoples' work. The smith had incorporated the motifs of eternal and true love in his work. The druid doubted that either of her friends were aware of its significance.

Elanee turned to the tiefling, still smiling. "With these and your gown, Neeshka, you will really be the princess going to the king's ball."

Neeshka idly touched a horn. "How many princesses do you know that have horns and a tail?" she asked shyly.

* * *

Georg Redfell, leader of the West Harbour militia and head of the village council, sat in his home along with Tarmas the wizard, Merring the priest of Lathander and Daeghun, the village's ranger. All were quietly pondering the events of the day. Almost a tenday had passed that had seen the return of Marcus Cole, Deaghun's foster son, and he hadn't been alone. Marcus had a young lady on his arm but she was no ordinary lady, she was a tiefling. And it was apparent to Georg and anyone with eyes for that matter that they were very much in love. He hadn't expected that to happen when Marcus's foster father Daeghun had sent him on a mission to Neverwinter.

"I thought the Mossfield boys were going to make trouble but they didn't. Hard to think they'd actually be scared of a mere girl," Georg mused, breaking the silence. The fact that the 'mere girl' was a tiefling may have had something to do with that.

Merring cracked a smile. "I think it was partly them being scared of a mere girl. Though, to be fair, said girl, I think, could kick their behinds easily. And Marcus carried himself with an air of confidence and authority he did not have when he left here."

Georg nodded. "I noticed that, too. Not surprising when you learn he is now a squire under Lord Nasher. Marcus broke a few hearts that day, knowingly or not, by having Neeshka with him."

"Yes, I dare say that was the case." Tarmas spoke up. "Marcus is a handsome young man and some of the local girls were hoping to catch his eye. Not much chance of that now," the wizard said with an ironic smile.

"No. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that they're in love, even without Marcus saying so. Just the way they act around each other… and did you see the necklace Neeshka had on? It must have cost a small fortune," Georg remarked.

"I did. And I have to say I was caught by surprise when Marcus introduced Neeshka as his girlfriend. I dare say the story of how they met would be an interesting one," said Merring.

Georg chuckled. "Well, Marcus did say they'd met on the road to Fort Locke, but I suspect there is more to their story. One day I may find out, as I asked Marcus to make sure to invite me to his and Neeshka's wedding. Thought the poor girl was going to faint," he said, remembering the shocked look on the tiefling's face.

Merring's eyes grew slightly. "Do you really think they'll last, then?" he asked.

Georg nodded. "Yes, I'm fairly certain they'll last and I'm just as certain they've been together, if you get my meaning."

Merring just nodded slowly in reply. "Yes, I think you may well be right about that. There was something in their manner and the way they talked to each other that would suggest that level of intimacy. Strangely though, I don't find it at all shocking or upsetting. What about you?"

Georg snorted. "If it's anyone's reaction we should be concerned about, it's Daeghun's," he said, motioning toward the ranger. "As for me? Well, they're both young and clearly attracted to each other. It was only a matter of time really. And prejudices that surround tieflings but that doesn't seem to have affected them much so far." Then he grinned. "And Marcus's visit seems to have snapped Bevil out of his melancholy, something Retta will be pleased about, even his news about Lorne wasn't so great."

"I am pleased for my foster son. He has made a life for himself," Daeghun said quietly.

"I'm glad to hear that Bevil is feeling better. Perhaps it was just what the boy needed. How did he react to Neeshka?" Merring asked. He was pleased to hear that Bevil was feeling better.

Georg just grinned. "He was taken aback when he first saw her. Apparently Bevil's younger brother made the mistake of pulling Neeshka's tail to see if it was real. She was not happy and neither was Marcus, who eventually got an apology out of him. Marcus then told Bevil what his relationship with Neeshka really was. For his part, Bevil said it was about time, as he'd often wondered about his friend at times."

Merring smiled. "It would seem that those who Marcus respects and cares about have accepted his choice in his lady. And that is all that matters. The Morninglord willing, may they continue to find happiness."

* * *

"Sand, I can't believe you're wearing your robes to the ball," Marcus said as he finished trimming his beard. The harbourman's room that he now shared with Neeshka was serving the same function for the boys as Elanee's room was for the girls.

"My dear boy, you forget I'm a wizard and as such we're expected to act a little different," the moon elf replied, matter-of-fact, as he finished brushing down his robes. "And I'll have you know I bought these especially for the ball tonight. I still have to make a good impression, considering Ophala will be there. Not that I wish to join the Many-starred Cloaks, too many rules, but it is wise to be on good terms with them."

"I cannot believe Serena has managed to convince me to come, much less get dressed up," Valen muttered darkly, for the weapon master was definitely not a 'people person'.

Khelgar chuckled. "Face it, Valen, Serena has you wrapped around her little finger."

The tiefling weapon master smiled slightly. "Yes, I suppose that is true. There are worse fates in the hells, to be sure."

As Marcus pulled on his black evening jacket he turned to the paladin. "Casavir, I take it you're free to attend events like this? I don't really know that much about paladins and what they can and can't do."

Casavir nodded with a smile. "Yes, I've been to several such events before, though I've never really been one to dance much."

"Casavir, not one for dancing?" Sand asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm shocked by this revelation."

The paladin rolled his eyes at the wizard's attempt at humour. "You may find it shocking, but one usually requires a partner to dance with," Casavir replied.

Marcus turned away to hide his smile, as he adjusted his jacket. He remembered the note he'd gotten from Sir Callum that had said that he was bringing Katriona with him and not to tell Casavir, for the paladin would find a way of not coming.

The harbourman was almost ready for the ball: he was dressed in black trousers, jacket and a dark green shirt, similar in colour to Neeshka's gown; they'd complement each other.

"First time for everything, Casavir," Marcus said as he put on his squire's ring that had been given to him by Sir Grayson. "So, Ophala will be at the ball as well?" he asked Sand.

"You sound a little surprised, my boy," the wizard replied. "Ophala is a high ranking mage within the Many-Starred Cloaks, and she is also a former adventuring companion of Lord Nasher. They were half of The Northern Four."

Marcus nodded. "I seem to remember reading something about them once. There was also Dumal Erard, who if I recall correctly went on to form Helm's Hold..." the harbourman's voice trailed off. "I wonder if he knew Neeshka," he said softly.

"I would be surprised if he didn't, Marcus," Sand replied. "But I wouldn't worry yourself about that now. Tonight is for you and Neeshka to enjoy yourselves."

* * *

"I'm glad you made it, Dumal," Nasher said as he nodded to the Helmite. "How are things at the Hold?"

"We are rebuilding still. It is a slow process but we are back to almost full strength," Dumal replied. "So, Neeshka will be here, later. I'm not sure I understand your reasons for having her here. Truth to tell, I didn't know she was still alive."

"You will understand when you see her, Dumal, I assure you, old friend," Nasher said. "However, I'm more concerned about how she will react to you being here. After all, as I understand it, the two of you have some… issues that need resolving."

"Yes, that is true," Dumal said slowly. "It shames me to be part of _that _mistake. But part of it I was, and thus must take responsibility for it. I'm the only one who can as I'm the only one alive. The rest were killed when Desther took over the hold."

Nasher nodded his understanding. "Very well, let us hope that Neeshka will listen to you."

Kari silently stepped closer. "I think she will, milord," she said. "Neeshka isn't as impulsive or brash as she was. However, she will be angry, and understandably so, but I think certain people will be able to calm her."

"I hope you're right, Kari; I'm taking something of a risk here," Nasher said.

"Everything we do is a risk in some way, milord," Kari replied. "But Neeshka needs to deal with the past before she can have a future."

* * *

Moire looked across the desk at the man seated before her. "I'd have thought you'd have been at the ball, not here talking to me," she said.

The man snorted. "Yeah, right. Can you really see _me_ at Nasher's ball?"

Moire smiled. "No, not really. I'll know what happens there, none the less. You've been most valuable so far. Our _friends_ might become a problem, nothing we can't deal with when the time comes."

The man smiled coldly. "I'll be looking forward to that. I think I'm going to enjoy this."

Moire leaned forward. "Be careful, and you do nothing without my say so. Are we clear?" The man scowled, then nodded. "Good," Moire said. "You better be going."

The man nodded again and stood to leave. "Oh and Bishop, take this," Moire said as she tossed the ranger a bag of gold.

Bishop just smiled as he easily caught the bag. He'd take Moire's gold, no worries at all, but when the time was right, he'd up and leave. The ranger wasn't a fool. No way was he getting caught in the middle of Moire's power struggle with Axle. That wasn't Bishop's only reason for wanting out. He'd hang around a while yet, though, see how things would play out.


	16. The Ball Part 2

"You look stunning, Neesh," Marcus said as they walked along toward the great ballroom in Castle Never.

"Glad you think so. I feel overdressed," Neeshka replied, still not believing that the gown and jewellery she wore were hers and hers alone.

The harbourman squeezed the tiefling's hand. "That's because you're not used to wearing such expensive things. Mind you, neither am I," Marcus said, looking into Neeshka's expressive red eyes. "I love you, Neesh, no matter what you're wearing."

"Or not wearing?" Neeshka asked with a cheeky grin.

Marcus blushed. "Yes, well, that goes without saying, Neesh," he said, clearing his throat as the large oak doors ahead of them were opened.

* * *

A hush had settled on the gathered nobles as Marcus and Neeshka made their entrance, followed by the rest of their party. Much murmuring could be heard, presumably due to the elegant gown and jewellery that Neeshka wore.

They were followed by Serena and Valen, Casavir and Shandra, Sand and Elanee and lastly was Khelgar, all dressed in their best. The group made their way to the table that had been set aside for them and sat down.

* * *

Dumal couldn't stop staring. He was having a very hard time reconciling what he was seeing with what he remembered of Neeshka from all those years ago. Here Neeshka was, a fully grown woman and looking every inch the lady in the dark green evening gown and gold jewellery she wore. Dumal idly wondered if it were 'borrowed'.

As if Aarin had heard his thoughts, he headed over. "No, the gown and jewellery are Neeshka's. Thanks to Marcus, he's been really spoiling her," he said, amused.

Dumal nodded as he looked over to Nasher. "I'm not sure I understand, not fully, anyway."

"What's to understand, Dumal?" Nasher asked. "I made young Marcus a squire. Neeshka just happens to be the lady in his life. Is it my fault that most of the nobility feel threatened by the presence of a tiefling?" He looked over at the Watch knight. "I can't tell my citizens how to live their lives."

Dumal frowned a little. "I can understand that. But there seems to be more to this, that's all."

Nasher smiled. "You're right, there is more to this. And you'll soon know, as will the rest of the nobility."

* * *

"What's wrong, Neesh?" Marcus asked "You look bothered by something."

"Oh, it's probably nothing, harbour boy," Neeshka replied. "You see the guy sitting next to Nasher?" she asked, pointing Dumal out, though she hadn't recognised him yet. "There's something familiar about him, as if I should know who he is."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it for now. Looks as though Nasher is about to speak," Marcus said.

* * *

Nasher stood and looked around the great ballroom. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure we're all aware of why we're here. That is, to thank my newest squire, Marcus Cole, for defeating Luskan's champion and ridding this city of the Arcane Brotherhood." There was polite applause and once it had died down Nasher went on. "Also, this evening serves another purpose: to officially introduce you all to the person who will become my new spymaster, as I've been informed that she has accepted my offer. I'm sure some of you may suspect of whom I speak, others will not. I am pleased to give you the lady Neeshka," he said, indicating the tiefling, who looked very awkward as she stood up for a few moments.

A silence fell on the ballroom as Nasher's announcement sank in, then many hushed conversations started. At last one nobleman stood up and shouted.

"You can't be serious, Lord Nasher, she's tiefling, a devil spawn! She's unfit to live, should have been killed the day she was born!" There was an audible gasp. While many nobles weren't happy about the tiefling's presence, they didn't wish her harm, nor would they speak such a thing out loud.

Nasher's eyes swept the room, looking for the dissident, and sighed when he saw who it was. Things then seemed to happen all at once. Nasher saw that Neeshka stood, looking very upset and angry. She also was making arcane gestures; Nasher could see the beginnings of an orb of fire forming in her hands.

"Guards!" Nasher bellowed just in time. "Escort Lord Temar from the castle immediately!"

He then looked back at the tiefling, who had Marcus standing behind her and Sand in front of her.

* * *

Marcus stood in a hurry, placing his hands on Neeshka's arms, making her break her concentration. "That _wouldn__'__t _be such a good idea, sweetheart," he whispered.

"Maybe not, but I'd feel a lot better after sending him to the hells for what he just said," Neeshka replied angrily.

Sand let out a sigh. "And here I thought we were in for a dull evening. Neeshka my dear, I understand you're angry and rightly so. What Lord Temar said was uncalled for. He was also most likely trying to get a rise out of you." The moon elf smiled. "It would have almost been worth it to see his face as he was engulfed by the fire orb you were about to throw his way. However, I don't think Nasher would have appreciated that in his ballroom." The wizard placed a hand on the tiefling's shoulder. "Take a few deep breaths, and try and calm yourself, Neeshka. This is the kind of thing I tried to warn Qara about. A mage must think before they act, though it isn't always easy, and it's doubly important for sorcerers such as you. You have tremendous power and must be careful how you use and shape that power. If a mage becomes angry, they can make mistakes that can be deadly. But enough of the magic lesson, that's not what we're here for," Sand said as he went back to his seat.

"Are you alright now, Neesh?" Marcus asked worriedly.

"Yeah… I think so. I'll be okay, harbour boy. Thanks to you and Sand," Neeshka said as she sat down again.

* * *

Nasher was pleased to see things had settled down reasonably quickly after Lord Temar's outburst.

"Now that the excitement is out of the way, perhaps we can continue. As is sometimes the custom, those being honoured usually take the first dance by themselves. So I call for Squire Marcus and his lady to take the floor."

The harbourman and the tiefling looked at each other, stunned, for a few moments before a gentle push from Casavir got them moving. Soon they were in the middle of the great ballroom. Nasher signalled to the court musicians that they could begin.

Neeshka smiled. She was glad Ophala had taught her to dance. "Do you think they're playing our song, harbour boy?" she asked softly.

Marcus smiled in return. "Didn't know we had a song, sweetheart," he said as he led her around the large dance floor, thankful that Retta had made him and Bevil learn to dance.

* * *

Kari turned her head slightly as Vengaul and Dara'nei came to stand next to her. "Ah, good. I see you two made it alright."

"I wasn't going to miss this," Vengaul replied. "Who's the young man dancing with Neeshka? I have to say, she's turned out a fine young lady," he said as he watched the young duo.

Kari smiled. "That's_ Squire_ Marcus Cole, he's the man that's captured Neeshka's heart." She looked at Vengaul. "And he's also quite possibly your son."

Vengaul couldn't keep the smile off his face. He'd love humiliating Nasher if indeed Marcus turned out to be his son. _Take that, you old goat!_ he thought. _A Bloodsail for a squire!_

Dara'nei smiled as she watched the young couple dance. "It's clear they love each other very much. I'm happy for Neeshka, as she often had a hard time fitting in. To find someone who accepts you as you are is rare indeed," she said, as she took her husband's hand.

* * *

Casavir sipped at his drink as he watched the harbourman and the tiefling dance, with a slight smile on his lips. It was gratifying to see. He hadn't noticed that Katriona was walking slowly towards their table. However, Khelgar and Elanee had. Both were smiling slightly, as they were aware of the feelings she had for the paladin.

* * *

Dumal shook his head slightly. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I don't think I'd have believed it." He looked across at Nasher. "You're serious about making Neeshka your new spymaster."

"I am. She has the skills needed and the Watch have never been able to really prove anything against her. Kari and Aarin had been trying to recruit her before she had some bother with a former partner of hers, but that seems to have been taken care of," Nasher said with a nod. "And young Marcus has been a positive influence on her, as well as Sand who has been training her in the arcane arts."

Dumal nodded. "I'm glad someone was able to train her at last. I had wanted to bring her to you, Ophala."

The mage raised an eyebrow. "I am glad you had wanted to do the right thing by her even if events turned out differently," Ophala said. "I have known Neeshka for many years, but I never had suspected she would turn out to have arcane abilities. Sand is an excellent choice for her tutor. Instruction at the Cloaktower would have not meshed well with her personality," she said.

The Helmite looked thoughtful. "I almost cannot believe that Neeshka is in a seemingly stable and loving relationship. She was quite the handful when she was younger. I wonder how they met?" he mused.

Aarin smiled. "Apparently totally by chance, or fate, whatever you believe in. Marcus and his dwarf friend encountered her, about to be put to the sword by some turncoat soldiers from Fort Locke, something Marcus didn't agree with. They've hardly been apart since."

* * *

Neeshka frowned slightly as Marcus led her past where Nasher and his group was sitting. "What's up, Neesh?" Marcus asked.

"You know how I thought I should know that guy that was sitting with Nasher? Well, I do. His name's Dumal and he was like the head priest or something at Helm's Hold," Neeshka said, beginning to fume.

_Ouch, so Dumal and Neeshka know each other._ "Easy, Neesh," Marcus said gently. "You have every right to be mad, but be careful when you talk to him. We _don__'__t _need you fireballing him," he said with a hint of a smile.

"Do you think I should talk to him, harbour boy?" Neeshka asked. "And I wouldn't do that to Dumal. Might slap him silly with my tail, though."

Marcus smiled. "I think you should consider talking to him, seeing he's here and all, which seems highly convenient."

"Yeah, maybe," Neeshka said, leaning her head on the harbourman's shoulder. "Just let's enjoy the rest of the dance," she murmured.

* * *

"Looks like they're almost done with their dance," Kari said as she faced Vengaul. "You better wait here and I'll bring Marcus over. I don't think many of his friends know about you yet. The poor man's confused." Vengaul nodded in understanding as Kari slipped away.

* * *

"Casavir?" Katriona asked as she came to stand before the paladin, who was dressed in a dark blue jacket and trousers, with a dove-grey shirt that had silver embroidery.

Casavir looked up, then stood up quickly. "Katriona?" he asked, looking surprised. "What are you doing here?" He felt awkward. He couldn't help but stare at his former sergeant as she stood before him in a flowing, deep burgundy evening gown, with a simple gold choker at her throat.

"She came with me, old friend," Callum said, as he stopped next to their table with a smile on his face. "I wasn't going to miss this little gathering." The dwarf paused, a twinkle in his eyes. "And I knew you'd need a dancing partner."

Khelgar laughed. "Ha! Looks like you've been set up, Casavir! And there'll be no getting out it either!"

The paladin looked embarrassed. "Katriona… I… ah…" he stammered as he turned towards Shandra.

The farm girl raised her hands. "Oh, no! You're _not_ dragging me into this, Casavir!" she said. "If Katriona wants to dance with you, she's welcome to. I'm happy just sitting here with Elanee and Sand."

Neeshka giggled as she and Marcus returned from their dance, and pouted at the paladin. "Aww, what's the matter? Casbear scared to dance with his precious Kat?" At this, Katriona turned pink and Casavir scowled at the tiefling. Neeshka just rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, you two! If me and the harbour boy can manage a dance, it should be easy for you."

"She has a point, you know, Casavir," Marcus said once he stopped chuckling. "Go on and enjoy yourself for once, man."

"And as I recall, you did say that one needed a partner with whom to dance. Well, seems to me you have one, Casavir," Sand added dryly.

Casavir admitted defeat, though he was smiling a little. "Very well, Katriona, would you do me the honour of joining me in the next dance?" he asked, offering her his hand.

Katriona smiled brilliantly. "I'd thought you'd never ask, Casavir. I'd be honoured to accept," she said as she took the paladin's hand.

* * *

Callum sat down next to Khelgar, in the seat that Casavir had just vacated, and the two dwarves started talking in dwarven to each other. The only thing that any of the others could work out were the words 'Casavir' and 'Katriona'.

"Well, that'll keep Khelgar out of trouble," Marcus said as he turned to Neeshka. "So do you want me to come with you, or do you want to see Dumal on your own?" he asked.

Neeshka thought for a few moments. "I need to do this on my own, Marcus. You'll be nearby if I need you. It's my past after all, you know," the tiefling said with a little sad smile.

"Alright, sweetheart, be careful and don't do anything too reckless," the harbourman said, and watched Neeshka as she headed towards the head table with a determined glint in her eyes.

Kari stepped up to Marcus and tapped him on the shoulder. "Just the man I was looking for," she said as the harbourman turned around to face her.

"Kari, it's good to see you," Marcus said as he took in the red-haired woman's black silk evening gown. "What do you want me for?" he asked.

Kari grinned. "There's someone I think you should come and meet. I found the person you asked me about and he's over there, far side," she said with a nod of her head.

Marcus' eyes went wide. "You don't mean…" he said. "And he's here, now? Will Nasher be mad at you?" the harbourman asked.

Kari shrugged. "Probably, for all of about ten minutes. Come on," she said, leading the harbourman to the far side of the ball room.

As Marcus and Kari left, Sir Darmon walked up to the table. He looked quite dashing in burgundy jacket and trousers, with a shirt that was the colour of fresh cream with gold embroidery, his dark grey hair and beard neatly groomed. The knight stopped before Elanee, who wore a russet coloured gown, and bowed.

"Lady Elanee, would you do me the honour of accompanying me for the next dance?" Darmon asked, as he extended his hand to the druid.

Elanee felt her eyes go wide and her face heat up. She hadn't expected to be asked to dance, and certainly not by Sir Darmon! The druid stood before she spoke. "I'd be honoured to accept, but I'm not sure if a druid of the Mere could do one of the Nine justice," she said shyly as she took the knight's hand.

Darmon smiled at the wood elf as Elanee's cheeks had turned a dark copper, a sure sign she was blushing. "Elanee, my lady, it is I that could only hope to do you justice, as you have to be one of the most beautiful women here tonight." At this, Elanee's cheeks went an even deeper shade of copper as Sir Darmon led the wood elf out to the dance floor.

"Well, that does it. Come on, Valen, you and I are going to show them how it's done," Serena said as she stood, her black and grey gown flowing easily about her. The upper half was black silk, while the lower half was feather grey velvet. It also looked very plain. Serena wore almost no jewellery which reinforced the plain look, for she only wore Anomen's signet ring and her wedding ring to Valen.

The tiefling weapon master grumbled. "I am not used to this, as well you know, Serena," he said, standing to join her. His outfit was just as plain as Serena's, for he wore black silk trousers and shirt with a feather grey velvet jacket.

"Well now, it looks like it's just you and I, Shandra," Sand observed as he watched Serena and Valen head for the dance floor.

"Looks that way," the farm girl agreed. "So: any chance of..?" she asked with a teasing smile.

Sand snorted. "Not on your life, dear girl, I'm not even _dressed _for the occasion," he said, indicating his robes.

"Ah… so that's why, huh?" Shandra said with a smirk. "So what do we do for the rest of the evening."

"It seems we'll have to endure their antics," the wizard said as he waved a hand in the direction of Khelgar and Callum, who were still talking in dwarven and drinking ale at the rate only a dwarf can.

* * *

Dumal watched as Neeshka walked toward him. The look in her eyes said she wanted the truth and she wasn't leaving until she got it. The Helmite braced himself, as he knew the tiefling's words were liable to be heated and angry.

Neeshka stopped in front of Dumal, folding her arms over her chest before she spoke.

"Why, Dumal? Can you tell me that? Why, huh?" she asked in a low, soft voice. Even so, Neeshka's anger was obvious as her eyes flashed.

* * *

Marcus had followed Kari to the far side of the ball room. Off in one corner he saw an older man, with grey hair and a very outrageous moustache that somehow seemed to suit him. He also wore a very flamboyant red and blue outfit with gold detailing. The harbourman's eyes grew as he realised where he'd seen something like it before. There was no doubt in Marcus's mind that this was Vengaul Bloodsail. The question was, though: was he the harbourman's father?

* * *

"Will you try and relax, Valen," Serena said. "You're being far too stiff."

"I told you, I'm no good at this," the weapon master replied darkly.

"Do I have to use your true name to get you to dance correctly?" Serena asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Valen's eyes grew. "You _wouldn__'__t_!" he hissed.

The priestess grinned wickedly. "Are you _sure_ about that, Valen?" she asked.

"You're a hard woman to please, do you know that?" Valen said as he started to dance more freely.

"I am, when I_ know_ you can dance," Serena said with a satisfied smile. "Now, how about serenading me with that wonderful singing voice I know you have, that sends shivers down my spine every time I hear it?"

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Valen remarked darkly. Serena just grinned.

* * *

"Casavir, isn't that your druid friend dancing with Sir Darmon?" Katriona asked as she nodded in the direction of the wood elf.

The paladin looked over and smiled. "Yes, that is indeed Elanee. I'm glad to see she's enjoying herself. She is far too serious most of the time," he said, turning his attention back to Katriona. She did look splendidly beautiful in that gown, he had to admit.

"You mean, like a certain paladin of Tyr that we both know?" Katriona asked playfully.

Casavir blushed. "Being a paladin is a serious business, Katriona," he said, slightly embarrassed.

"That might be so, Casavir, but Tyr knows you need to relax and just let go once in a while. Something I don't think I've ever seen you do," Katriona said, sounding a little anxious.

Casavir mulled that over for a few moments. "I've never really had any reason to relax and let go," he said, and then smiled. "Until now, that is." The paladin leaned in and kissed the woman in his arms as they danced round the great ball room of Castle Never.

"Mmm… Casavir, I think you're going to get this relaxing thing down okay after all," Katriona said, almost breathless.

* * *

Dumal sighed as he stood and walked around the table to Neeshka. "I don't think I can answer that but I'll try, Neeshka," he said. "It was a mistake, that much I do know. As to why? Fear and uncertainty. Fear of the powers you had started to show, and uncertainty of what it might mean, of how powerful you could become had they developed as they should have."

Neeshka nodded, as her tail seemingly appeared out of nowhere and slapped Dumal hard across the face. Nasher stood, about to reprimand the tiefling, but Dumal shook his head and lifted a hand. "I most probably deserved that, Neeshka," he said softly.

"Yeah, I'll say!" Neeshka hissed. "I was a kid, for Torm's sake! Hells, I don't think I even _got _to be a kid! You were meant to be my guardians and protectors! You failed me, Dumal!"

Dumal nodded sadly. "Yes, we did, and badly. I had hoped to bring you here to Neverwinter, and leave you in the care of a mage that I knew I could trust, once your abilities had started to manifest themselves. Sadly, however, I was outvoted on that course of action… and you know the rest. An enchantment was placed on you that suppressed your arcane abilities." He smiled. "Justice, though, is a funny thing. Once Desther took the Hold for his nefarious deeds, all those that had taken part in putting that enchantment on you were slain. Perhaps the Watcher punished them, I truly don't know. I'm the only one left who knows what happened all those years ago. Is it little wonder you ran away when you did? I don't blame you, Neeshka." Dumal rubbed his forehead as he sighed. "What truly pains me is that I failed the promise that I made to your… mother."

Neeshka's eyes went wide. "My… mother?" she breathed.

* * *

Vengaul watched as Kari returned with Marcus. The young man looked very smartly turned out in the black jacket and trousers with a dark green shirt, his beard neatly trimmed.

"This is the old scoundrel that you wanted me to find, Marcus," Kari said. "The one and only Vengaul Bloodsail."

Vengaul's moustache twitched as he smiled. "What kind of tall tales have you been telling the lad, Kari?" he asked.

"Oh you know, just the usual..." the former spymaster replied with a grin.

"It's an honour to meet you, sir," Marcus said, sounding far too formal.

"Sir? Keep calling me that, lad, and I'll start to think I was one of Nasher's underlings, Gods forbid," the old swashbuckler said with a laugh. "It's Vengaul, or, if you insist on some formality, Mr. Bloodsail." He turned to the elven woman at his side. "Where are my manners? This lovely lady is my wife, Dara'nei."

"So this is the man that has made Neeshka happy," Dara'nei said with a smile.

"Well… I try to make her happy," Marcus replied, a little embarrassed. "And she makes me happy, most of the time anyway," he said with a grin.

"Ha! Neeshka can be a right handful, can't she?" Vengaul asked. "And I bet you wouldn't have it any other way, would you, lad?"

"You're right, I wouldn't. I love Neeshka just the way she is," Marcus said, smiling.

"_My mother? Dumal knows about my mother!"_ Marcus frowned as he sensed Neeshka's thoughts. He turned towards the far end of the room where he could see Neeshka, Dumal, Nasher, Ophala and Aarin.

"_Your mother, Neesh? What's the matter?"_ Marcus thought.

"_Dumal knows about my mother, harbour boy. Get you__r butt over here. Now,"_ the tiefling replied.

"_Alright, Neesh, we're coming__,"_ Marcus thought. "_Um, and Neesh?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_You realize we've been hearing each other's thoughts?"_

"_Hells, hells, hells. How is that possible?"_ Neeshka asked, amazed.

"_Don'__t know… but Sand might,"_ Marcus thought as he turned back to Vengaul and Kari. "I want to go and see how Neeshka is getting on," he said to them.

* * *

"Elanee, are you alright?" Shandra asked. "You look, well… happy."

"I'm… I'm not sure. I feel alive, Shandra. For the first time since leaving the Mere, I feel alive," the wood elf said as she watched Sir Darmon walk away, a contented smile on her lips.

"Oh dear, it's worse than I thought," Sand remarked, his eyes twinkling.

"What are you on about, Sand?" the farm girl asked.

"Come now, dear girl, do I have to spell it out for you?" the wizard asked. "First it was Marcus and Neeshka, then the paladin and his sergeant." Sand waved a hand in the direction of Casavir and Katriona. "Then you and Duncan." At this, the moon elf wrinkled his nose in mock disgust. "Now Elanee and Sir Darmon look as though they've had Sune's blessing."

"Ah…" Shandra said knowingly. "Jealous, are we, Sand?"

The wizard snorted. "Hardly. I think Khelgar and I are the only sane ones left."

* * *

Dumal nodded. "Yes, your mother. She came to the Hold when you were about six months old, as I recall. You were such a lovely baby, with big innocent eyes. Sadly, that's something you lost a long time ago, Neeshka. Your mother loved you dearly and it pained her to give you up, but being human with a tiefling child, she feared she wouldn't be able to care for you properly as you grew. As it was, she tended not to stay in one place too long," he said. "I don't know your mother's name, as she never gave it and I never asked. I had promised her that you'd grow up loved and cared for, something I totally failed on, I fear."

Neeshka felt her eyes become moist. "Well, maybe you did screw up… but you always tried to look out for me, I guess," she said, taking a few small steps towards the Helmite. "I can't stay mad at you, Dumal, I never could, as well you know, old man," Neeshka said, giving him a hug.

Dumal felt his own tears. "I'm glad, Neeshka. You were often quite a handful and gave me more grey hairs than I care to remember," he said, hugging the tiefling. "I'm pleased to hear that you've at last been trained as you should have been, all those years ago." He smiled. "And found someone who loves you."

Neeshka felt herself blush as she stepped away from the Helmite. "Yeah, the harbour boy has been the best thing to happen to me in a very long time," she said.

"Keep saying that and I might start believing you, sweetheart," Marcus said playfully, as he slipped his arms around Neeshka's waist.

"Well, it happens to be the truth, harbour boy," Neeshka said with a giggle.

"I think this is where I'm supposed to be shocked at you actually telling the truth about something, Neesh," the harbourman said as he kissed her on the cheek.

The tiefling just rolled her eyes. "Behave, you!" she said.

Dumal failed to keep the smile off his face at the couple's exchange of words. It was clear to the Helmite that Neeshka was loved and that was all he could ask for. Vengaul and Dara'nei too were smiling: they could see that Neeshka was loved by someone who accepted her for who she was.

"Kari, what is_ he_ doing here?" Nasher asked in a stern voice as he noticed Vengaul and Dara'nei. "And just how did he get an invention?"

Kari kept her expression neutral. "I have _no _idea, milord," she said. Her eyes, however, said the exact opposite.

"I see. And I suppose if I asked you to find out, you'd have no luck?" Nasher asked, both amused and annoyed at the same time. Kari just grinned and nodded her head in reply, which made Nasher roll his eyes in mock dismay.

Vengaul grinned and bowed with a flourish. "You seriously didn't think I'd miss this ball, now did you, Nasher?" he asked.

On hearing the swashbuckler's voice Neeshka was a blur of green as she hugged the old man. "You're alive, you old scoundrel!"

"Ah, Neeshka, my dear, let's take a look at you," Vengaul said as he held the tiefling at arm's length. "All grown up, and the lady of a squire. You have done well for yourself," he said with a grin.

"Yeah, it still doesn't seem real, you know?" Neeshka said, a little embarrassed.

"I think I need to start worrying if my new spymaster knows the enemy," Nasher said dryly, with the hint of a smile.


	17. Shadow Cults

"Do you think we'll ever do this mind-reading thing again, harbour boy?" Neeshka asked softly as they walked through the dark streets of Neverwinter, back to the _Flagon_,after the ball had finished.

"Don't know, sweetheart. That's why I think we should talk to Sand later as he might know more," Marcus replied, just as softly.

"I guess," Neeshka said with a shrug. "Still, it was pretty cool, being able to talk without anyone else knowing."

Marcus just smiled as he looked back over his shoulder. He could see Casavir and Katriona walking hand-in-hand, talking quietly. A little in front of them were Elanee and Sir Darmon; the harbourman looked just in time to see the knight take off his jacket and put it around Elanee's bare shoulders. Marcus could only imagine that the wood elf was blushing at all the attention. At the back of their strange procession were Khelgar and Callum, both of whom were staggering every now and then; they were also mangling some bawdy tavern song. Just behind Neeshka and himself were Sand, Shandra, Valen and Serena.

Marcus turned his attention back to the woman nestled against his shoulder. "So, milady, did you enjoy the ball?" he asked the tiefling with a playful smile.

Neeshka giggled. "I did, milord," she said, grinning. "What do you think of the tree worshiper and Sir Darmon? Never saw_ that_ coming. Did you?"

"No, can't say that I did," Marcus said. "But I'm glad that Elanee has had the chance to let her hair down, so to speak. She's far too serious most of the time." The harbourman smiled. "I'm surprised it's taken so long, to tell the truth. After all, Elanee is an attractive woman."

For that, he got a poke in the ribs. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean? That I'm not?" Neeshka pouted.

"Aren't we territorial tonight, sweetheart?" the harbourman asked, with an eyebrow raised, as he nuzzled the tiefling's neck. "I'm in love with _you_, remember? I do have eyes, Neesh, and I do use them every so often," Marcus said with a grin.

"Well, I guess that's okay, then. You can look but don't touch!" Neeshka giggled. "Unless it's me, of course," she added.

Marcus chuckled. "I'm waiting for the gossip to start about the lord's knight and the wild wood elf druid from the Mere. Scandal in the making, maybe?" he asked.

"Well, at least it's not the lord's knight and the tiefling rogue that ran away from Helm's Hold, and became a sorceress. Now _that _would be a scandal, harbour boy," Neeshka said, her eyes sparkling.

Marcus was about to reply, but he never got the chance, as Shandra stepped up to them. "Marcus, who was the weirdo in the red and blue pirate get-up you and Neeshka were talking to?" she asked.

* * *

"What are you up to, Nasher?" Vengaul asked, eyeing his longtime rival and friend. They were in Nasher's study along with Dara'nei, Kari, and Aarin.

"Are you the lad's father?" Nasher asked.

"Truthfully, you old goat, I have no idea," Vengaul said. "I'd like to think I am. That's why your charming assistant got me here tonight, so we could talk, though it didn't work out like that. Neeshka, bless her heart, stole the show somewhat." The sailor smiled. "Not that I minded. It was good to see her again."

"I see," Nasher said as he looked over at Kari who did her best to look innocent. "And you haven't really changed, have you, Vengaul? Still disrespectful as ever, I see."

"Well, _someone'__s _got to keep your feet on the ground and make sure you don't get delusions of grandeur you know, Nasher," Vengaul said with a smile.

Despite himself, Nasher chuckled. "It's almost like old times, isn't it?"

"Almost… apart from the state the Docks are in. It makes me mad. They used to be a safe place, before the plague, before Callik turned on me," Vengaul said bitterly.

"Yes, the Docks..." Nasher mused, leaning back in his chair. "How many men do you have?"

"Twenty-four, twenty-six, if you count Dara'nei and myself. And a single ship, the _Esmerelle_," Vengaul said, looking at Nasher. "Okay, out with it. I can see the cogs turning."

"How well you know me," Nasher said with a smile. "I want you to take back the Docks. The watch still barely has control. I need the docks secure, Vengaul, and if anyone can do that, it's you."

Vengaul folded his arms. "Ironic, isn't it? I spend my life trying hard _not _to work for you and yet here I am about to do just that. But what I want to know is why."

"There are things happening, plans in motion that are yet to reveal themselves," Aarin said. "Neverwinter again faces a foe who hides in the shadows. Overland travel has all but become impossible in some places and barely manageable in others. The Docks are Neverwinter's link to the rest of the Sword Coast and to the Lords' Alliance. We need the Docks to be held by those Nasher_ can_ trust."

Vengaul nodded gravely. "I'll see what I can do. Perhaps it's time that Bloodsailor colours were seen in the Docks again."

"That's all I can ask of you, Vengaul," Nasher said, as he stood up. "And it'll be good to have someone to match wits with."

"Indeed. Just imagine if Marcus does turn out to be my son? You'll never hear the end of it, you know. Having a Bloodsail for a squire. My, your standards are dropping, old friend," Vengaul said with a smile, as he stood and extended his hand to Nasher.

Nasher laughed. "I'm sure that matter will resolve itself in time." He took Vengaul's hand and shook it. "It's good to have you back, you old scoundrel. I think life in Neverwinter might just be getting back to something close to normal." Everyone in the room laughed at that. It was good to have something to laugh about.

* * *

"Vengaul Bloodsail is _not_ a weirdo, farm girl," Neeshka said, her eyes narrowing. "He's a bit eccentric, maybe, but he's no weirdo."

"That was _the_ Vengaul Bloodsail?" Sand asked, making sure Shandra couldn't anger the tiefling any further.

"Yeah, haven't seen him in years," Neeshka said with a sad smile. "He's looking really old now. Glad he's still alive, though. He was like a father to me after I'd run away from Helm's Hold."

"Sorry, Neeshka, I didn't mean to upset you," Shandra said.

"It's alright, Shandra, you didn't know. I guess I just got upset because he… well, might be the harbour boy's real dad, you know?" Neeshka said quietly.

Both Sand and Shandra just looked at Marcus expectantly. The harbourman rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. "Gee, thanks, Neesh," he said. "Truth is, we don't know for certain. He might be my father, but it could all be a very big coincidence… which somehow I doubt," Marcus said. "Can we talk about this later this morning? Once we've all had some sleep and can think straight."

Sand nodded. "Yes, that is perhaps for the best. The _Flagon _isn't far now."

* * *

At breakfast, which was late due to the hour everyone had arrived back at the Flagon the night before, Marcus had the joyous task of explaining the situation with Vengaul Bloodsail.

"Let me get this straight, Marcus," Shandra said. "Your mother was a Bloodsailor, and she had that spyglass, that has an engraved message that seems to say it was given to her by Vengaul? And that's what got you wondering if he's your father or not?" she asked.

The harbourman nodded. "Yes, that's pretty much it, Shandra. Kari had gotten him along last night to the ball so we could meet, and I was hoping to talk to him about Esmerelle, but that never happened," he said, looking at Neeshka. "As someone, who shall remain nameless, stole the show. Not that I mind, in truth. After meeting the man, I'm not sure what to think."

"Yeah, he has that effect on people a lot of the time," Neeshka said, giving Marcus a hug.

"I can sympathise, Marcus, dear," Serena said as she finished off a plate full of Duncan's pancakes. "Sometimes you're best off _not_ knowing who your parents are, as it can be a… life altering experience, and not always in a good way."

"Ah, speaking from personal experience, are we?" Sand asked sarcastically. The harbourman sighed and Neeshka groaned.

Serena smiled sadly. "Yes, as it happens," she said. "However, it's something that we don't need to get into and spoil a wonderful breakfast." The closed look that crossed the priestess's face clearly said the matter was over. This, of course, aroused the moon elf's curiosity, but he knew better than to push his luck.

"Well now, paladin, looks like our leader isn't so squeaky clean after all," Bishop said with a gleeful expression. "That's got to hurt, I'd say. Finding out he's the son of a notorious rogue. Explains why he and the she-devil get on so well."

Casavir sighed heavily. "Our leader has admitted nothing but the possibility of who his father is, Bishop. And his relationship with Neeshka has nothing to do with it." The ranger just snorted but said nothing more.

The harbourman rolled his eyes as he leaned over to the wizard. "Sand, can Neeshka and I speak to you in our room after breakfast, please? We want to talk to you about something."

Sand nodded. "Certainly, dear boy."

* * *

Captain Brelaina looked up from the paperwork on her desk, which never seemed to end, as Sir Darmon entered the Watch post. To say she was worried would be an understatement; last time she'd seen Darmon, her best officer had been accused of slaughtering an entire village.

"What can I do for you, Sir Darmon?" the captain asked.

"Don't look so worried, Captain." Darmon said with some amusement. "Last night at the ball, I was approached by Lord Bryce. It seems his daughter, Lisbet, has got mixed up with some sort of …" He hesitated for a moment, "…cult, I think, is the best word. I can hardly go to the Bryce crypt with a squad of castle guards, as that would get everyone on edge. This is more a matter for the Watch anyway. I'm asking you to send Lieutenant Cole to investigate. It will also be the last service he performs for the Watch, as he is to assume his full duties as a squire now that his name as been cleared."

"I see. I should have expected the latter. Very well. Do you wish to stay and brief the Lieutenant?" Brelaina asked.

Darmon couldn't help but smile. "Yes, that sounds like a fine idea, Captain," he said. Darmon hoped that the intriguing wood elf, Elanee, would be with the squire.

* * *

"What did the two of you wish to talk to me about?" Sand asked as he closed the harbourman's door, turning to face Marcus and Neeshka.

The harbourman took a breath. "Last night at the ball I was able to sense Neeshka's thoughts; we even had a brief conversation."

"Ah… I wondered when this would start," Sand said as he sat down, looking thoughtful.

"You… knew?" Neeshka asked, confused.

"I _suspected_, Neeshka my dear," Sand corrected. "Ever since I started to train the both of you in the arcane arts, there has been… something, a link, if you will, that's formed between you. I have no idea as to how or why, though I do have a few theories," the moon elf said. "I'm inclined to think it has something to do with your devilish heritage, Neeshka, though precisely what I am still uncertain. However the fact that you can now sense the other's thoughts would suggest to me that the link is probably fully formed. Even so, it takes a lot of practice and skill to do that." The wizard tapped his chin in thought for a few moments. "Did anything particularly emotional happen last night?" Sand asked.

"You mean apart from the fact I wanted to fireball someone?" Neeshka asked flippantly. "Yeah, there was something else. I learned something about my mother."

"Hmm… that would do it. You had a strong emotional reaction to the news about your mother and undoubtedly wanted to share it with Marcus, the result being that you unwittingly had your first telepathic experience," Sand said. "If you wish to do so in the future, I can teach you two, but it is not easy. And Neeshka, my dear, we'll have to do something about controlling your anger. We do not need a near miss like last night," the wizard said, in all seriousness.

"Yeah, sorry about that, Sand," Neeshka said quietly. "Whatever became of that girl, Qara? I don't think you've ever really said."

Sand smiled, a little sadly. "No, I never have, but perhaps it's time I did. She got into an altercation with two wizards from the academy… ironically enough it was outside this very inn. The Watch didn't know whether or not to intervene. Duncan was at his wit's end. He came to get me from my shop… but sadly, it was all over by the time we got back. All three girls were hurt, but Qara was in a very bad way. I was the last living thing she ever saw for she died in my arms, saying she was sorry."

Neeshka didn't say anything. She just got up walked over to the moon elf and hugged him. "I'll do my best not to end up like Qara," she said at last.

"My dear, you worry too much," Sand replied, looking awkward at being almost smothered by the tiefling. "You have several things that Qara sadly lacked, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. You have a very strong survival instinct, Neeshka. Qara, on the other hand, had a destructive streak," the wizard said. "You knew you had to do something to save yourself when you learned of your powers, and you did it. You're also willing to listen and learn from others, something that Qara was not that good at, despite my best efforts," the moon elf explained.

* * *

"Shandra, why don't you stay here today and help Duncan out, or better yet, get him out of here for a few hours," Marcus said as they got ready to leave the _Flagon _for the day.

"Huh? What are you up to?" Shandra asked, immediately suspicious.

"I'm not up to anything, well, not really. You didn't have a fun time at the ball really, so take the day off, take Duncan out someplace. Gods know he needs to get out more," the harbourman said with a grin.

"Well, thanks, that's nice of you, Marcus," the farm girl replied.

"A little too nice, if you ask me," Bishop remarked as he walked over. "Still, that'll make you short handed, oh great leader. Do you want me to come along this time?" the ranger asked.

Marcus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yeah, you can come if you like, Bishop, and don't worry, your bag of gold will be here waiting for you," he said with sarcasm.

* * *

"Ah, Lieutenant, or should I say squire. Did you enjoy the ball last night?' Captain Brelaina asked, as the harbourman and his friends filed into the Watch post.

"It was enjoyable, Captain, thank you," Marcus said. "Sir Darmon, what brings you here?" he asked on seeing the knight.

"I couldn't pass up the chance to see milady again," the knight said with a slightly roguish smile that was directed at Elanee, who coloured slightly. Brelaina raised an eyebrow and Cormick looked bemused by the exchange. "However, in truth, there is a more serious matter that brings me here, squire. Last night I learned of the presence of a cult within Neverwinter, something that I want you to look into," Sir Darmon said seriously.

"A cult, within Neverwinter?" Casavir asked, horrified. "Could it be the shadow cult we found mention of in the priest's journal in Old Owl Well?"

"We'll find out soon enough, Casavir," Marcus replied, concerned.

The knight nodded. "Yes, Lord Grey, worryingly, many of the teenage children of the families in Blacklake seem to have been… converted. Lord Bryce is concerned about his eldest daughter, Lisbet."

"_Lord_ Grey?" Neeshka repeated, her eyes twinkling. "Just what haven't you been telling us, Casavir?" she asked, taking great delight in the paladin's discomfort.

Casavir glared at Sir Darmon who refused to be intimated. "I come from a noble family and have an estate in Blacklake, though I haven't set foot within its walls for many years."

"With all due respect, Lord Grey, you can't run forever. Paladin of Tyr or no, you do have responsibilities and one day you'll have to face them," Sir Darmon said.

Casavir was about to reply when Wolf burst into the Watch post. The former street urchin looked happy and healthy now that he had decent clothes and was well fed. He ran up to Marcus.

"You're a tough one to catch, Marcus! Got a message for you, from that Aldanon fellow," Wolf said, slightly out of breath.

"From Aldanon? What did he want, do you know?" Marcus asked.

"Came into the _Flagon_all rattled, he did, mumblin' about some silver shard. Said he needed to talk to you right quick," Wolf said.

"Uh oh, that can't be good, harbour boy," Neeshka said.

"What? When was this, Wolf?" the harbourman asked with a frown.

"Not long after you left this morning. Said he'd be back at his manor in Blacklake."

"Alright… thanks, Wolf," Marcus said as he dropped a few gold pieces into the child's outstretched hand. Wolf grinned happily before he left the Watch post. "Cormick, could you do me a favour and go see what Aldanon wants? I'll meet you there after we've looked into the cult business," he asked the marshal.

Cormick grinned as he stood up. "I think I can manage that. Always wanted to see the inside of the old sage's place," he said, turning to Brelaina. "With the Captain's permission, of course."

The Captain snorted. "I doubt it would matter in any case, Cormick, you'd just go anyway," she said with a smile.


	18. The Bryce Crypt

"Uh, tell me I'm not hearing what I think I'm hearing… in a crypt," Neeshka said as she, Marcus, Elanee, Casavir, Khelgar, Bishop and Sand made their way into the Bryce crypt. "Because if I am, that's just _icky_," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

The harbourman listened to what he could hear from the chamber just ahead of them before he spoke. "Alright, I won't tell you, you can hear what you think you can, Neesh," he said. "And you're right, it is icky."

"Do you feel it, Marcus?" Elanee asked. "The same feeling from the Mere, and each time we've encountered a shadow priest. Diplomacy may not be an option as we'd hoped."

Casavir frowned. "It is as we feared, a shadow priest, here, in the heart of Neverwinter."

Marcus nodded in agreement with Casavir. "I feel it, Elanee. This isn't going to end well, I don't suppose. Let's hope we can at least get Lisbet out of here."

Bishop snorted. "Looks like you've been having fun without me."

The harbourman's suspicions were confirmed when they stepped into the first chamber and found six teenagers doing things teenagers clearly _shouldn__'__t _be doing in a crypt. Marcus had to wonder if they were old enough as he heard Casavir send a prayer to Tyr. However, that wasn't his chief concern. Finding Lisbet Bryce was, and the shadow priest that he was sure that was lurking about.

* * *

"Eek! Who invited them!?" Kat asked as she hastily covered herself, looking at the armoured newcomers, one of whom clearly wore the uniform of a city Watchman. For some reason she felt a thrill go up her spine as she looked him over, as he was very easy on the eyes. Kat decided she could have some fun with him.

"No one invited us. I'm here on behalf of Lord Bryce, looking for his daughter, Lisbet," Marcus said calmly. He noticed that the mention of Lisbet's father shocked the teens.

"She's somewhere deeper in the crypt. What do you want with her, anyway?" Demien asked as he looked over the group. He recognised both Marcus and Neeshka, which made him realise that this was serious. You didn't send a squire to retrieve a noble's daughter unless something more sinister was going on.

"It doesn't matter… this is a private party! You can't just shove your way in here. Get lost!" Adriel cried.

Marcus gave the young woman a hard look. "Somehow, young lady, Lord Bryce would disagree with that, as this is _his_ family's crypt…" The harbourman was cut off by a long, chilling scream that seemed to echo from somewhere deeper in the crypt.

Neeshka sighed sadly. "And there goes the first victim. Next time, you kids should choose someplace other than a tomb to show your... affections," she said, wrinkling her nose.

_Why is being the hero never easy?_ Marcus thought. "You kids get out of here, now. It isn't safe," he said, waving a hand towards the exit.

"You can't tell us what to do, it's our friends in there! We're staying right here," Kai said defiantly as he eyed the girl with the horns and tail. A tiefling, he thought she was called. Kai couldn't help but wonder what she'd be like.

"Fine, I don't have time to argue," Marcus said as he opened the inner door and went through, followed by the rest of his companions.

"I don't like this," Mara said, rubbing the back of her neck after the harbourman had left. "It was only a matter of time before Lisbet's old man got suspicious. And now look, he's sent the Watch to get her."

"So what? We can take care of them," Jaret said with a cold smile.

"I'm not so sure. There are seven of them and only eight of us, counting Lorelei and Vera," Kat said. "And don't count on the ghasts dealing with them either. One of them was a paladin."

Demien nodded in agreement. "And that's not all. I recognised two of them, from what my old man has been saying, at least. Their leader, the one in the Watch uniform, he's the new squire that's been making a few waves on account of his girlfriend. That was the girl with the horns and tail."

"Why are all the good ones spoken for?" Kat muttered.

"Tell me about it," Kai replied dryly.

"I'm all for rebelling against our folks, but this… this is getting way out of hand," Mara said glumly.

* * *

"Shandra… I thought you'd gone with Marcus and the others," Duncan said, as he cleaned the tables down after the morning rush.

"I was going to, but then he told me to spend the day with you. I think he's trying to play matchmaker," the farm girl said with a smile.

Duncan raised an eyebrow. "Really, lass? What gave you _that _idea?" he asked.

"Easy. Marcus said I should take you out somewhere. He thinks you don't get out enough," Shandra said.

"I can't recall the last time you went out with a woman, Duncan," Sal remarked from the bar.

"Not you, too?" Duncan muttered. "Good help is hard to get." Even so, he had a slight smile on his face. "Well, Sal; do you think you can keep an eye on the place without it catching fire?" he asked.

"Sure, it's usually pretty quiet until the afternoon rush about lunch time. So that'll give you a few hours," Sal said.

"Well… looks like that's taken care of," Shandra said with a grin. "So let's go, see what sort of mischief we can get into."

* * *

"Oh, look, Vera... they think they're _rescuing_ us. What do we do now?" Lorelei asked.

"The thralls... they're all dead. You slaughtered them! Do you have any idea how long it took us to raise those things?!" Vera asked.

"Raise them?" Casavir asked, horrified. "What in Tyr's name are you doing raising undead?"

"My fault, Vera. They came in looking for Lisbet. But it was only the six of us, and I didn't think they'd have a chance against your, uh... friends. The dead ones, I mean." They heard Adriel's voice behind them.

"Ooo… look, they're _trying_ to scare us," Neeshka said, as she looked over her shoulder to see that the other six teens had arrived.

"Do you think we'd better tell them that each time we've run into a shadow priest, they have a habit of ending up dead?" Marcus asked the tiefling.

"Yeah, couldn't hurt. What is it now? Four shadow priests so far?" Neeshka replied.

"Yeah, something like that," Marcus said. "Listen, you kids, get out of here. Things are going to get very unpleasant very quickly." The harbourman looked around and noticed with some degree of satisfaction that four of the kids had backed off, though the other four, sadly, were willing to die.

"We warned you. You weren't invited, but you came in here anyway..." Adriel said coldly.

"His darkness is truth. His Shadow will cleanse the world..." Vera cried as she attacked.

* * *

"Aarin, look at this. I think we've found that shard that's meant to be within Neverwinter," Kari said as she walked over to her husband. They'd been going through the archives for the past few days. "Notice anything about the names?" she asked.

Aarin studied the page for a few moments. "Lords Dalren, Brennick, Hawkes, and Tavorick," he said quietly. "All but Tavorick are dead."

Kari nodded. "Yes, and we better inform Lord Nasher right away."

"Agreed. He'll likely have one of the Nine deal with this," Aarin said as they left the Neverwinter archive, Kari still holding the tome in question.

* * *

"Well,_ that_ was unpleasant," Neeshka said, as she wiped the blade of her rapier on the robe of one of the dead teens.

"Yeah, not a nice feeling, having to kill someone so young. The shadow priest responsible for this isn't going to live to see the end of day," Marcus said grimly, as he recovered the key to the inner crypt from Vera's corpse.

"Um, what happens to us now?" Mara asked as she looked away from the bodies of the slain teens. It was sobering to think that she could be laying there, dead on the cold crypt floor.

"You will have some explaining to do," Casavir said, "Both to your parents and to Prior Hlam at the Hall of Justice. But that can wait until we've finished here. However, it is best that you wait outside, for your own safety," the paladin said.

* * *

"What's going on, Brockenburn?" Cormick asked as he arrived in front of Aldanon's home.

"Marshal!" Brockenburn said, snapping off a salute. "We think a robbery gone wrong, sir. It looks as though they've got the house staff as hostages."

The marshal sighed. "So much for an easy job," he muttered. "Alright, keep everyone back and let me see what I can do. Also, Squire Marcus was to meet me here later," Cormick said as he walked towards the door of the sage's home.

* * *

"Oh, gods! It's the Watch! What do we do?" Savanna asked, as Marcus and his companions entered the third chamber of the Bryce crypt.

"Shut your mouth, Savanna, you sound like a scared little girl. If we die, we'll rise again in Shadow… you heard what Arval said," Raven said with a scowl.

"Aw, come on, you're a beautiful young woman, Savanna. You don't really want to die, do you?" Neeshka asked, giving the blond a big smile and batting her eyes.

"Well... no... I guess not," Savanna said, blushing a little.

"Gross!" Raven said, rolling her eyes. She couldn't believe the freak with the horns was hitting on Savanna. "Don't listen to her, Savanna. Think about Lisbet and me. We're your friends, remember?"

"What kind of friends would ask you to throw away your life?" Marcus asked, amused at Raven's reaction to Neeshka, though it bothered him to learn that Lisbet was more heavily involved that he'd thought.

"They're right, Raven! I don't want to die! I just wanted to meet boys… _normal _boys, not these weirdos who wear makeup and dress in black!" Savanna said, backing away from Raven and her underlings.

"Savanna, you stupid cow, you take that back," Raven cried, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at her soon-to-be-dead friend.

"No! No! I'm sick of you pushing me around, Raven! You're not even half as pretty as Lisbet, that's why Arval picked her instead of you!" Savanna cried.

Neeshka winced. "Ouch. That had to hurt," she muttered.

"You want to die with them, Savanna?" Raven asked, growling. "Fine! You'll be a lot smarter as a ghast, anyway."

* * *

Nasher looked up as Kari and Aarin entered the throne room. He didn't like the worried and grim expressions on their faces. "Kari, Aarin, what has you so concerned?" he asked.

"Milord, we've found the silver shard that was rumoured to be here in Neverwinter. It was held by a fraternity of lords who liked to dabble in matters of the arcane," Kari said. "They were Lords Dalren, Brennick, Hawkes, and Tavorick."

Nasher nodded slowly in understanding while Ophala cursed. "I should have realized sooner, milord," she said quietly, shaking with anger.

"There's nothing to be done, Ophala, don't blame yourself," Nasher said. "Nevalle, assemble the Nine. Ophala, old friend, we may need the _Mask _as a cover."

"What do you have in mind, milord?" Aarin asked.

"A diversion and a ruse. We may yet flush out who has been killing the lords that held the shard," Nasher said grimly.

* * *

"Oh gods! Oh gods, Raven's... Raven's dead, isn't she?" Savanna asked, as she glanced down at Raven's still form.

"You did the right thing, Savanna, child," Elanee said as she took the shaking girl by the shoulders.

"But she's... she's..." Savanna whispered.

"Don't look, child," Elanee said soothingly, as she turned the girl away from the horrible scene. "Come, I'll make sure you get out of here safely." The wood elf turned her head to Marcus. "I should also keep an eye on the other young ones, too."

Marcus nodded. "Alright, El, that sounds like a good idea," he said as Elanee led the terrified Savanna out of the crypt.

"Aw, isn't that sweet," Bishop said, making a face.

"Stick a cork in it, Bishop," Neeshka growled. "You might be enjoying this, but the rest of us surely aren't. These kids should be making out somewhere and getting caught by their parents, not getting themselves killed in some dark, cold crypt," she said, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Huh? Why do you care, demon girl? I'd have thought you'd have enjoyed this too," Bishop said with a cold smile. "After all, you're just a devil in disguise." It was obvious he was trying to goad Neeshka into reacting.

Neeshka's eyes flashed. "I might not enjoy killing kids… but I am going to enjoy doing _this_," she said, smiling sweetly at the ranger, as her tail whipped around with the intent of slapping him hard across the face.

Neeshka felt more than saw her tail stop suddenly short of its target; she looked to her left to see Marcus had a firm hold of her tail. The tiefling glared angrily at her lover. "Why did you go and do that for? I had a perfect shot!" she complained.

The harbourman smiled a little sadly. "I know, Neesh. But Bishop isn't worth the effort. He was trying to get a rise out of you, like he did with me the other morning, which wasn't one of my best moments," Marcus admitted. He could have handled the ranger's needling of his relationship with Neeshka much better, he knew. "I'll make it up to you tonight, sweetheart," he whispered so only Neeshka could hear.

"Marcus is right," Casavir added. "Bishop is trying to get you to sink to his level. Do not let him do that to you, Neeshka." The paladin wondered what incident that Marcus was referring to. Had the harbourman had another loss of temper concerning the ranger? It seemed likely but the fact that Marcus had admitted he'd made an error was a good sign.

"Remember, dear girl, controlling your temper is vital if you wish to control your new abilities." Sand spoke up, concern evident in his voice. "I don't want to see you become another Qara. You have too much potential to waste it."_ I do not think I could bear to lose another student as I did Qara, _the moon elf thought. _And Marcus would not be the same either, I fear._

Neeshka nodded slowly, feeling both a little embarrassed at her outburst, and very lucky to have so many people who cared about what happened to her. It was a new feeling for the tiefling, but it was one she thought she could really get used to.

* * *

"Savanna?" Kat asked as she saw the blond leaving the crypt, accompanied by the wood elf. "Where's Raven…?"

"Dead, Kat. They're all dead," Savanna sobbed.

"Dead... how?" Kai asked, looking worried and a little frightened.

"They would not listen to reason," Elanee said. "We were forced to kill them."

"And Lisbet?" Kyli asked, afraid for her big sister.

"We haven't found her yet, child," the druid said. "But if anyone can get her out alive, it is Marcus and Neeshka," Elanee assured the girl.

* * *

"May the King of Shadows forgive you. Embrace him, and know light for the illusion that it is," Arval, the shadow priest, said as he raised his arms above the young woman who was tied down before him, a ceremonial dagger in his hands.

The woman tried to scream in pure terror but she could not, for Arval had cast a silence spell on her, rendering her efforts useless. With an easy, swift motion, Arval brought his hands down in the center of the woman's chest, plunging the dagger in deep. The woman's eyes grew wide momentarily before they glazed over, and her mouth closed for the final time as she died.

"Murderer! You killed that woman!" Casavir yelled as he and the others stepped into the last chamber of the Bryce crypt, just in time to see the young woman sacrificed.

"Quite the contrary. She will be the first to achieve divine union with our King... not the crude undeath which lies in store for you, but a true joining of souls. And it is only the first step. I have unearthed truths known long ago, and I have already sent word of my discoveries to my brothers and sisters in Shadow," Arval said easily.

"Save your breath, shadow priest, and draw your blade!" Khelgar bellowed as he charged the startled man. As the fight erupted around him, Marcus noticed a young woman off to one side, who was staying out of the way. He guessed that this must be Lisbet Bryce.

* * *

"Keep away from me! Arval _isn't_ dead. I can bring him back..." Lisbet cried as she began to wave her hands and chant.

"You_ fool_ girl… stop!" Sand cried as he recognised some of the incantation. But he was too late; shadowy forms began to appear around them. "And here is why I _hate _the dark arts," the moon elf said as he let loose with a number of flaming arrows.

"It... it didn't work. He's gone. He's really gone," Lisbet said sadly.

"I'm sorry, Lisbet." Marcus looked at her. "But those shadows would have killed us."

"Of course they're gone." Sand was matter-of-fact. "What were you expecting?" he asked.

Lisbet shook her head. "No... no, you don't understand. The _ritual _didn't work. I wasn't strong enough. Those shadows were just... echoes. Arval and the others... they should have been joined with the King of Shadows. Don't you see? That's why we made all these symbols, all these markings. I said the words, but I... I was too weak."

Sand crouched down and studied the glyphs. "Hmm… old elven… Illefarn, perhaps?" he murmured. "I think they worked as intended," the moon elf said, looking up at Lisbet.

"Or perhaps you aren't truly evil," Neeshka said.

"I... I don't know. Arval said he loved me. He said we'd be united in Shadow, joined with this beautiful, ancient being. Arval was a liar. Those shadows... there wasn't anything beautiful about them," Lisbet said, her eyes downcast.

"I don't think Arval really loved anybody, Lisbet," Marcus said gently.

Lisbet just nodded. "Those words I said... they'll have raised everyone in the crypt. All the people you've killed will be waiting for us as shadows."

"Oh, dear girl, you really know how to make my life interesting," Sand said with a dramatic sigh.

Marcus rubbed his beard. "Neesh, stay here with Lisbet and keep her safe while we clear the crypt. And if Arval's ramblings are to be believed, you might want to poke around and see what you can find."

"Alright, harbour boy, just because you asked," Neeshka said as the harbourman left with the men to make the crypt safe for the two women.

"If… if not for you and your friends, I'd have ended up like that. And I'd never have seen Kyli again, or my father. I'd have just wandered down here, in the gloom…" Lisbet said as she followed Neeshka, while the tiefling looked for anything important. She soon found Arval's diary. "Thank you for saving me from that. I won't... I won't forget."

Neeshka gave the girl a hug. "Hey, that's what the harbour boy does, saves people and helps them out," she said. "I'm kind of liking it, too. Sure beats the hells out of stealing stuff for a living," the tiefling said with a grin.

Lisbet smiled in return. "So, you're the tiefling I've been hearing about from my father. You made quite the impact at Lord Nasher's ball from what he said. Many of the ladies were jealous of you because you had the eye of Squire Marcus, and your gown and jewellery put some of theirs to shame."

Neeshka blushed. "Wow, um, thanks. He's really spoiled me, you know. Come on, I think we can start following them now."

* * *

"Lisbet!" Kyli cried happily as she saw her big sister emerge from the crypt along with Marcus, Neeshka and the others.

"Hey little sis, good to see you, Kyli," Lisbet said as she hugged the girl. Before too long the Bryce girls were surrounded by Savanna, Kat, Kai, Demien and Mara, all of whom were glad to be out of the crypt and alive.

"Looks like another job well done, huh, harbour boy?" Neeshka asked as she leaned her head on Marcus' shoulder, taking his hand. She was happy to be out of that crypt at last.

"But at what cost, Neesh?" the harbourman asked. "A lot of kids lost their lives today," Marcus said sadly.

"You cannot save everyone, Marcus," Elanee said. "It is a worthy goal perhaps, but maintaining the balance is all we can hope for," the druid said, placing a hand on the harbourman's shoulder and squeezing.

"Elanee is correct," Casavir said. "For I have been a paladin too long, and it is impossible to save everyone. We did well, I think, given the circumstances."

Bishop snorted. "If you ask me, some of those kids didn't want 'saving'. Looks to me as though they got want they wanted. Can we go now? Or do we have to stick around for this… love fest," the ranger asked, waving a hand in the direction of the Bryce girls and their friends.

Sand rolled his eyes. "As I recall, Neeshka told you to 'stick a cork in it', Bishop. Which, I should imagine, even you should be able to understand as meaning to shut up."

Khelgar tried not to laugh but failed utterly. "Ha! I think I'm starting to like you, pointy ears!" the dwarf said, slapping Sand on the back, making the moon elf cough. "See, ranger, we don't need your meaningless prattle!" Bishop just scowled.

"Daddy!" Lisbet cried on seeing her father and some of his men arrive, along with Sir Grayson and Sir Darmon.

"Lisbet, Kyli! I'm relieved to see you both safe, thanks to the efforts of Sir Grayson's squire," Lord Bryce said as he hugged his two daughters.

"We did our best, Lord Bryce," Marcus said quietly. "But it was still something of a disaster."

"What do you mean, squire?" Lord Bryce asked, looking over to where the harbourman stood, Neeshka at his side and the rest of his companions clustered around them.

"There was more to the cult than we thought. A shadow priest was involved but it was the amount of teenage children we encountered, most of whom left us with no choice but to kill them," Marcus said. "Your crypt is now littered with the bodies of many teens. I lost count." The harbourman was grim-faced.

Lord Bryce nodded, understanding. "You did well to get these few out, squire," he said. "But it is never easy to slay those you feel have done nothing but simply be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"We will see to the crypt and make sure the bodies of those killed are laid to rest in the Tomb of the Betrayers," Sir Grayson said. "As I understand it, you have some other matters to attend to, squire, at Aldanon's."

Marcus nodded. "Yes, we do. Thank you, Sir Grayson."

"Those kids deserve better than the Tomb of the Betrayers, Sir Grayson," Neeshka said softly. "They were brainwashed, used. They aren't… betrayers. What you do with the shadow priest, I don't much care. But the kids, they should be buried by those who loved them." The tiefling's eyes flashed.

Both Sir Grayson and Lord Bryce were taken aback by the steel in the tiefling's words. However Sir Darmon was not, as Elanee proved to be a great source of knowledge about the squire and his tiefling consort when she wasn't busy blushing. "And what makes you think that, Lady Neeshka?" Darmon asked.

Neeshka blushed a little. She wasn't used to being called 'lady.' "Easy, most of them had families here in Blacklake so they were loved by someone. Being raised by priests, it changes your outlook on things, I guess," she said with a shrug. She didn't want to get into the fact the whole thing had really struck a chord, making her realize she was lucky to have Marcus, the man she loved, and her friends Sand, Shandra, Casavir, Elanee and Khelgar. It could have easily been her laying dead in there.

Darmon nodded. "Very well. We'll do our best to make sure the dead are reunited with their families. You had better be going, Squire. There seemed to be something amiss at the sage's house," he said as Marcus and company left.

* * *

"I'm not sure watching that bard contest was such a good idea… but seeing that idiot Cain getting set on fire was almost worth it," Shandra said. "And getting my portrait painted was really sweet. Thanks, Duncan," she said, kissing the half-elf on the cheek.

The innkeeper blushed a little. "Well, you are a good-looking woman, Shandra… even if that gnome painter was a bit of a loon, he did you justice."

"Hey, what's going on at the sage's place? Isn't that Marcus and the others?" Shandra asked, pointing in the direction before she started towards the group.

"Oh, come on, lass, not now," Duncan complained as he followed. "Leave it alone, please?" he pleaded, but to no avail.

"Old Scab?" They heard Neeshka snarl angrily. "That low-life? We better be careful, harbour boy. He likes his traps, but you've got me, so we should be alright."

"Marcus? What's going on?" Shandra asked.

The harbourman turned around. "It looks like Aldanon's the victim of a robbery gone wrong. Could use an extra blade, if you feel up to it, Shandra."

The farm girl nodded. "Alright, I'm in," she said, much to Duncan's dismay as he just rolled his eyes.

"Well if the farm girl's joining that's my cue to leave, I think." Bishop spoke up. "I'll keep Duncan company back that the _Flagon_," the ranger had had enough plus everyone kept on spoiling his fun.

"Your generosity is overwhelming Bishop," Duncan muttered.

"That's fine Bishop," the harbourman said as he turned to Sergeant Brockenburn. "These two are all yours, sergeant. Clap them in irons for what they did to Cormick," he said, a cool edge to his voice, looking at two of Scab's men.

Neeshka grinned devilishly. "Old Scab is in for a shock. He won't even _see_ us coming."


	19. Tavorick's Shard

"Well, I have to say that has to be the most practical use of the invisibility spell I've seen in a long time, Neeshka, my dear," Sand said, as he looked around the basement of Aldanon's home at the bodies of the would-be thieves.

"Hey, I did say Old Scab would never _see_ us coming," Neeshka grinned, as she cleaned the blade of her rapier on old scabs sleeve.

"You did, Neesh, but we didn't think you had meant it literally," Marcus said with amusement. "I don't think that Sergeant Brockenburn will be getting over us vanishing like that soon," he said, turning to Aldanon's house staff. "Are all of you alright?" the harbourman asked.

One of them nodded. "Yes, I believe so. A little shaken, but otherwise unharmed, thanks to you, Squire Marcus." He bowed. "I am Harcourt. I assist Master Aldanon in matters arcane, and I conduct his business in the Archive, ever since Master Aldanon was... ahem... banned from the premises," the man said, slightly embarrassed.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," Marcus said with a smile. "Where is Aldanon? We haven't seen any sign of him."

Harcourt rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah yes... you see, the thieves came straight to the door, dressed respectably enough. They said they bore a message from you, so Master Aldanon lowered the wards... It was chaos after that. They gathered us together and herded us down here. Two others trundled the Master out of the house. They returned shortly after with a heavy pouch of gold, so I presume they traded the Master to whoever hired them in the first place."

"Why would they want to kidnap the old loon?" Neeshka asked. "It's not like he seemed to be all _there_, if you know what I mean."

"Regrettably, I have no idea. They were a sullen lot, altogether, and the leader did not seem to confide in many of his men," Harcourt said with a slight smile. "The master might seem to be… vacant at times but he does have vast knowledge if you can keep him on the subject. 'Old Scab' liked the look of the Master's treasure, so he stayed here a while longer than he should have. I don't believe that was part of the original plan."

"Aldanon was looking for me? Why?" Marcus asked, as he mulled over who would want to kidnap the old sage. One name came instantly to mind… and the harbourman didn't like it at all.

"Ah yes… he… that is, we… had been researching the silver shards at the Archive. We found an old reference to a shard in Neverwinter, discovered shortly after the war with the King of Shadows," Harcourt said. "This shard was held by a fraternity of lords, wealthy men who dabbled in matters arcane. According to the tome, only four still lived... Lords Dalren, Brennick, Hawkes, and Tavorick."

"Three of whom are dead, killed in mysterious circumstances, seemingly by demons," Sand remarked dryly.

Harcourt nodded. "Yes, all but Tavorick. We reasoned that the lords have been passing the shard from one to the next, just ahead of the demons. If our guess is correct, then Lord Tavorick has the shard, and he is in considerable danger. Aldanon tried to send word to him, but the man is stubborn." Harcourt glanced at Shandra. "He urged me to go away, and said that I shouldn't return until I was... 'younger and female,' were his words, I believe," he said with a shrug.

"This just gets better and better," Marcus muttered. "Alright; looks like we're going to see Lord Nasher, now," he said as he turned away to head out of the basement. "We'll send the Watch to help you out, Harcourt."

* * *

"I don't get it, what did Harcourt mean when he said about Lord Tavorick saying 'younger and female'?" Shandra asked as they made their way through Aldanon's trashed home.

"Perhaps he's a bit, _unusual_?' Neeshka suggested. "You can never tell what these old lords like, you know." She said with a shrug. _So long as this Tavorick doesn't get any freaky ideas about me_, the tiefling thought. _I'm a one man woman. _Neeshka smiled as she glanced at her lover. She'd given herself heart body and soul to the harbourman and she was happy with that even if it still scared her a bit.

"Anything is possible, I guess, Neesh," Marcus replied. "As to your question, Shandra, what did Harcourt mean about 'younger and female'-- I have a theory about that," the harbourman said as he opened the front door.

"And that theory would be…?" Sand prompted.

Marcus smiled. "Well, we know that these silver shards are the remains of a githyanki silver sword. We also know that the gith and Black Garius have been trying to gather the pieces, but there is also a third party involved and we've only seen him briefly, once so far."

"The mysterious warlock you told us about, when you came to rescue me," Shandra said.

Marcus gave a nod. "And this is where my theory comes into play. We know that there was one person who actually possessed a gith silver sword, your grandfather, Ammon Jerro."

Shandra blinked. "Are you trying to tell me that my grandfather is still _alive _and can summon demons?" the farm girl demanded.

"In all honesty, Shandra, I don't know. I'm just going with what little we know," the harbourman said. "But given that Harcourt looked at you and you _are_ the last living descendant of Ammon, he obviously has a bigger part in things than we know."

"But what about this King of Shadows we keep hearing about?" Neeshka asked.

Marcus shrugged. "I have no idea… but he or it can't be anything good. The only thing I'm sure of is that this King of Shadows is something more powerful and sinister than a warlock."

"I'm inclined to agree with you, dear boy," Sand said. "What we've been encountering on this little adventure contradicts what records existed from the time of the war with the King of Shadows. However, we still need to uncover more information… perhaps Lord Tavorick may provide a lead or two."

* * *

"Ah, Squire! I'm glad you've arrived. It seems one event follows another… Although the trial with Luskan has been settled, now I've been informed of the tragic events in the Bryce crypt by Lord Bryce and Sirs Darmon and Grayson. By the look on your face, however, I can tell something else is afoot," Nasher said, as Marcus and his companions entered the throne room.

Marcus nodded. "Aldanon has been kidnapped, but he also had discovered a link between the murdered nobles." The harbourman couldn't help but notice that present were Lord Bryce, Sir Grayson and the majority of the Neverwinter Nine as well as Ophala, who he now knew to be a mage as well as owner of the Moonstone Mask.

Nasher scowled. "Explain."

"There is a silver shard that has been passed between a group of nobles, Dalren, Brennick and Hawkes, all of whom are dead. However, Lord Tavorick now holds the shard."

Nasher looked thoughtful for a moment. "Cyran? I will not allow him to suffer the same fate as the others. I want you to report to Lord Tavorick's estate at once, Squire. I shall send Captain Ballard and a detachment of guards to meet you there."

"Black Ballard?" Casavir asked, slightly surprised to hear of an officer he'd served with years before.

"The same. I think he will prove an asset," Nasher said with a smile.

"Why in Tyr's name would anyone want to kidnap Aldanon?" Sir Nevalle asked, perplexed.

"_Think_, Nevalle. Who has been trying to obtain the silver shards from the Squire?" Sand asked. "Black Garius. He obviously thinks Aldanon may have knowledge of the shards or something linked to them. However, finding Garius and therefore Aldanon will prove difficult."

"This is grave news. However, it will have to wait until after you've seen to the safety of Lord Tavorick and his shard. Now go," Nasher said with a wave of his hand.

* * *

"So, what do you think, Neesh?" Marcus asked as they looked up at the large mansion where Lord Tavorick lived. "Could you see yourself living in such a place?"

"Hells no, harbour boy!" the tiefling exclaimed. "It's_ too_ big. I like my space but… that's… and anyway, it would be a nightmare to keep secure. _Way _too many windows and such." Neeshka shuddered.

Casavir couldn't help but smile. "One day, Neeshka, you may find yourself living in such a house as Lord Tavorick's, regardless of your wishes, if your relationship with Marcus continues the way it seems to be," he pointed out.

Neeshka was going to reply when one of the two Greycloaks guarding the gates to Tavorick's estate spoke up. "Halt, there! Who're you, an' what business have y' here?"

"Quit with your 'Halt there's,' you great bumbling nit!" the other Greycloak said with a sigh. "'Tis Squire Marcus Cole or I'm half a troll," he said as he saluted, turning to face the harbourman. "You'll have to pardon my comrade, your lordship. We started as watch-hounds, you see, and there's nothing a watch-hound likes better than the sound of his own voice, 'specially when it's tellin' folk to 'Halt!' and 'State your business!'"

Neeshka broke down into giggles. "Guff, Wetherly?" she asked. "You two haven't changed a bit, have you?"

Both Guff and Wetherly stared at the tiefling for a few moments before they smiled. "By the gods… Neeshka?" Wetherly asked, surprised. "Is that really you in that fancy armour?"

Neeshka just nodded, grinning. "It's been years since the two of you were always seemingly chasing after me in the docks, and you never caught me… Well, almost never," she said, her eyes sparkling.

"Do we want to know why you're with the Squire's party, Neeshka?" Guff asked. "Did he catch you, or somthin'?" Guff's innocent remark had everyone in the harbourman's party grinning.

Marcus chuckled as he put an arm around Neeshka. "There's some truth to that, Guff, but perhaps not in the way you meant," he said. "Though I'm not sure who caught whom, really."

"The harbour boy and me are pretty much inseparable these days, Guff," Neeshka said.

Guff scratched the side of his head, trying to put the pieces together. "Huh…? Oh…" he said as he realised what Neeshka was trying to say.

Wetherly sighed with a smile. "See what I have to put up with, Squire?" he asked. "Neeshka, I'm glad to see things are working out for you. You were always a good kid… or tried to be."

Neeshka turned slightly pink. "Aw, thanks, Wetherly," she said softly.

"Neesh has a good heart," Marcus said with a smile. "However, the danger to this house is real enough, so Guff's right to be cautious."

"Wrong thing to say, harbour boy," Neeshka whispered.

"There, see that? Cautious! Know what that word means, Wetherly?" Guff asked with a smile on his face.

"Bad idea, encouraging him, your lordship. Guff here's locked his own children out of his house, on account of forgetting his latest password," Wetherly said with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

"He… didn't?" Elanee asked incredulously, looking at the two soldiers with narrowed eyes. Even Shandra looked shocked.

"It was dark an' raining that night, Wetherly, an' young Ronel's been growin' so quick I hardly know him to look at him!" Guff retorted, as he threw an apologetic look at the wood elf.

"I'll let the gods be the judge of that, Guff. Now, let's quit pestering the squire, afore he decides to clap us in irons," Wetherly said as he saluted again. "Old Black Ballard's a waitin' for you, inside, Squire. He should be in the great hall... probably still arguin' with milord Tavorick over that girl from the _Mask_… what's her name? Melia? Yeah… Melia," Wetherly said as he opened the gates and allowed Marcus and his companions through.

* * *

Sure enough, as they entered the great hall they could see four Greycloaks, Lord Tavorick and Melia, the girl from the Moonstone Mask.

"That's Ballard there," Casavir said as he pointed out the captain to Marcus. Just as he did so, Ballard took a step toward Tavorick and the paladin was shocked to see that the fourth Greycloak was Katriona. "What in Tyr's name is she doing here?" Casavir's worry for the young woman was obvious.

"Seems to me, she doesn't want to be too far from her paladin," Neeshka said with a grin. "We'll find out soon enough, Casbear." Casavir did his best not to look embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, milord, but the girl _must_ leave," Ballard said, as he was aware of the arrival of the squire and his party.

"Oh come now, look at her. _Look_!" Tavorick demanded as he waved a hand toward Melia. "Pretty girl like that would keep any man alive and well, even a spotty old wart like me. That is what Nasher wants, isn't it? To keep me from dropping dead? Eh?" he asked, leaning heavily on his walking stick.

"Lord Nasher is concerned about milord's well being, in light of the recent deaths of milord's associates," Ballard replied. He had to get Melia out of here before the squire and his companions became suspicious. Ballard didn't like the idea of the squire not being told the whole story, but orders were orders, especially when they came from Lord Nasher himself.

"Bah! If Nasher cared about milord's well being, he'd buy me a potion of youth. Failing that, he'd send me a harem. Eighty-four girls, one for each of my years. Yes?" Tavorick asked hopefully. Ballard simply said nothing. "Soldiers... no sense of humour," Tavorick muttered to himself as he turned slowly to face Melia. "Melia, my dear, I insist that you come back and play for me again. The night after next, perhaps?" he asked, as he discretely passed the girl a small package.

"Milord is very sweet. I'd be honoured," Melia said warmly as she bowed, placing the package in her dress. She turned and walked out past Marcus and Neeshka, who was studying her intently.

"Squire Marcus Cole? Captain Andrey Ballard, at your command," Ballard said, giving the harbourman a smart salute. "If you don't mind me saying, Squire, it's an honour to serve with you. My men and I were there for your trial by combat. Warmed a lot of veterans' hearts to see you rout that Luskan dog," Ballard said.

Marcus' expression darkened slightly, and Neeshka placed a calming hand on his arm. "I hope, Captain, that you enjoyed my little stunt afterwards?" the tiefling asked, batting her eyes.

Ballard at least had the decency to blush. "Ah… it was unexpected, milady," he said awkwardly. "As for the matter at hand... I've already made an initial sweep of the house, secured the outer doors, and billeted my people on the second floor. We're six in number, and all proven," Ballard said as he turned to introduce the rest of his men. "The quiet one with the bow is Comely Finn. Doesn't say much, but he's killed more Luskans than any of us with those arrows of his. Next to him is my sergeant is Deorwin, called Graylocks. Like a father to the boys, and deadly with an axe. Guff and Wetherly you've already met. I'll be bringing them inside and locking down the front door when night falls. And it's my understanding you already know Miss Katriona from Old Owl Well."

"Indeed we do, Captain," Casavir said, as he stepped out from behind Marcus and Neeshka.

Ballard stood rooted to the spot for a few moments before he was able to snap off a salute. "Lord Grey, Sir! I had no idea…"

"Relax, Captain," Casavir said with some amusement. "I'm not in charge of this operation, the squire is. However, I'd like to know how my former sergeant from Old Owl Well has ended up assigned here."

"I can answer that, Casavir," Katriona said as she stepped up to the paladin. "Sir Callum seemed to think that I'd be of more use to you and the squire… and I've missed you," she said, giving the holy warrior a quick kiss on the cheek before she returned to her place.

"Now I wish I'd brought my image capturing equipment with me," Sand remarked. "It would almost be worth the effort." Casavir and Ballard both looked embarrassed by Katriona's bold move.

"It might be worth your time to inspect the rest of the house so you know where everything is, and then speak to Lord Tavorick, squire," Ballard suggested.

* * *

"I don't care what the Greycloaks say, that girl, Melia, isn't one of Ophala's girls," Neeshka said as they wandered about the large mansion. "And don't ask me why I think that, I just _do_. That, and Tavorick slipped something to her just before she left, too," she said.

"How do you know, Neesh?" Marcus asked as they entered a room that seemingly had been an armoury at one time, and now seemed to be used a just a store room.

"Hey, give me some credit, please!" the tiefling said in mock horror. "I am the greatest thief in Neverwinter so I _know _sleight of hand when I see it, harbour boy," Neeshka said, rolling her eyes.

"Alright, sweetheart, point taken," Marcus replied with a chuckle.

"What do you suppose are in these old barrels?" Shandra asked, as she carefully removed a thick layer of dust from the top of one of them. "Quantity: 40 blast globes. Granted by the Many-Starred Cloaks, Neverwinter City, to Lord Cyran Tavorick, 1360 DR," the farm girl read aloud.

"Don't open that, and don't touch it!" Sand said. "Blast globes do_ not_ age well, and get more... temperamental... with age. The Cloaktower mages are the only ones authorized and trained to dispel them, and they typically do so for any blast globe that has lain idle for more than a year."

"We could tell Ballard about them. We might be able to use them to defend this place better," Marcus suggested

Sand gave a nod. "Hmm. Not a bad idea… but we should be careful if we move either of those barrels… the slightest bump could turn this place into an inferno. Not a pleasant thought, I must say," the moon elf said.

* * *

"What's this, _more_ of you?" Tavorick asked as Marcus and his companions came up to speak to him. "Nasher thinks an army's going to stop me from dropping dead?"

"My name is Marcus Cole, milord," the harbourman said, doing his best trying not to smile too much.

"Marcus Cole, eh? Heard about that business with Lisbet Bryce. I ought to have a chat with her father, you know. Man can knock nearly anyone off a horse with a pointed stick, but he can't raise one eighteen-year-old girl," Tavorick said, shaking his head. "Pretty little thing, too. Should have sent her over here, I'd have taken her in." At this Neeshka made her 'ick' face. "Don't look at me like that, it wouldn't be the least bit improper."

"Speaking of girls… Who was that woman I saw earlier?" Marcus asked.

"What… oh, Melia? She's one of Ophala's girls from the Mask. Comes and visits from time to time, reminds me what a real woman looks like," Tavorick said, casting a glance at Neeshka.

"Hey, I'll have you know I'm more _real woman_ than you can handle, old man," Neeshka cried, indignant. "Even the harbour boy finds me a handful some nights."

"Neeshka!" Marcus said, as he turned red with embarrassment.

Tavorick chuckled. "Ah… I see you've got one with some fire! Good for you, squire! Lovely girl, Melia. Plays the harp like a songbird. I can't actually hear it, you understand, but she's wonderful to watch. Beautiful hands. My fourth wife had beautiful hands, come to think of it. Know where it got her? Scorched to a crisp, that's where."

"This old coot's worse than the sage," Neeshka whispered.

Marcus just gave a slight nod. "Where is the shard?" he asked.

"Got it right here, in my pocket," Tavorick said, patting the top left pocket of his tunic. "And that's where it's staying, too. Told Nasher I wouldn't give it to him, and he said I wouldn't have to. Nice enough fellow, Nasher. Seems to like sitting on that throne of his, though. Ancestor of mine made that throne, and you know where it got him? Exiled to Icewind Dale. Silly fool thought he'd sign his initials on the bottom. I ever tell you what I think of artists?" Tavorick asked.

"You know, you have a real talent for changing the subject, old man," Neeshka said.

"Oh? What were we talking about?" Tavorick replied, unfazed.

"You should perhaps head upstairs now, milord," Marcus suggested.

"Oh, very well. Shoo the old dotard away, he smells like boiled cabbage, anyway. No, don't bother to disagree, I know what I smell like," Tavorick said, as he slowly turned away and headed upstairs. "I'll be upstairs in my chambers. Think I'll go to bed and dream a bit. Always pretty girls in my dreams, and I don't even have to pay them to keep me company. Anyway you have soldier things to see to, don't need me around for that."

Ballard looked impressed as he walked up to Marcus after Tavorick had left. "By your leave, squire, I'd like to barricade all the exits, as well," he asked.

"I don't see the point, Captain. We're dealing with demons, after all, so they'll easily bypass any barricade we set up. Also, those barricades could give us problems if we have to get out of here quickly," Marcus said. "However, we did find some old barrels of blast globes in one of the storage rooms. I'd like to place them near the doors."

Ballard nodded. "Aye, you're probably right about the barricades, squire… but not a bad plan with the blast globes. A single arrow shot would probably set them off. Could take down half a dozen attackers, if we time it right. I'll have Deorwin set the barrels in place. He's well practiced in handling blast globes, and the like. Where were you thinking of putting them?"

Marcus looked around a moment or two. "Place them both near the main door to this hall," he said, pointing to where he thought would be a good spot.

"Deorwin, see that it's done as the Squire says. One barrel on either side of the main door, and make sure Finn takes a sighting, so we've got a clear shot," Ballard said as Deorwin left to set up the blast globes.

"Where are you planning to position your men?" Casavir asked.

"I'll be posting Guff and Wetherly at the front door. Those two never quit their bickering, but it keeps them wide awake, so we're not likely to be taken by surprise. Finn, Deorwin and Katriona I'll keep here, with me. These stairs are the only way up, so if trouble comes looking for Lord Tavorick, it'll have to pass the four of us," Ballard said. "When you're ready give the word, Squire, and we'll lock down the house. You'll be stationed outside Tavorick's door. Nasher's orders."

"Are we ready?" Marcus asked his companions, who all nodded in response. "Very well, secure the house, Captain. We'll be upstairs," the harbourman said as he started up the stairs.

* * *

"Hells take your good spirits, Wetherly! I tell you, there's an ill wind tonight," Guff said as he paced back and forth.

"Aye, maybe. But you smelled it first, Guff. T'wasn't me who had the double helping of beans," Wetherly responded.

Guff sighed. "Why can't Black Ballard pair me with Finn for a change?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "At least I'd have some quiet!"

"You know why, Guff," Wetherly replied to his old friend's lament. "Anyway… what do you think of Neeshka and the squire? That girl's got the devil's own luck, she has."

Guff smiled slightly. "Aye, she does. They seem happy together… but a stranger pair you'll not likely see, Wetherly," he said, then frowned. "Have you heard the latest from the Docks? Bloodsailors have been seen and even reports of the Old Man himself."

Wetherly raised an eyebrow. "Aye, that so? I wonder if Neeshka knows ole Vengaul is back in town? Maybe he can get the Docks into some sort of order. It were never that bad when we were watch-hounds... You smell that, Guff?" he asked sniffing the air.

Guff nodded. "There's a foul smell on the air tonight Wetherly… and a stillness… I don't like…"

* * *

"Oh great… Casavir is a _Lord_, now he won't want anything to do with me," Katriona said, trying not to get angry with herself. She really did feel a fool.

"Casavir hasn't been a lord that long, Miss Katriona," Ballard said. "When his father passed away a few years ago he became lord, though Lady Grey, his mother, still runs the estate. When I served under him back during the war with Luskan, he was just a unit commander."

Katriona smiled, a little sadly. "Thanks, Captain. But one day Casavir will have to take over his family's estate, paladin of Tyr or not."

"That's true, Miss Katriona," Deorwin said. "But as for him not wanting anything to do with you… well he's as taken with you as the squire is with his lady, the tiefling," the sergeant said, a knowing look in his eyes.

Katriona blushed a little and was going to reply when she noticed that all the torches light along the walls were changing colour from the normal yellow flame to an eerie blue flame ."By the gods, look at the torches!" she cried. "And what in the hells is that… stench?" Katriona asked wrinkling her nose.

"Deorwin, you and Finn go fetch the squire and his party. Looks as though our_ guests_ have arrived," Ballard said, turning to his sergeant.

"Aye, Cap'n, as you say," Deorwin replied before he and Finn took the stairs two at a time.

* * *

"So… do I want to know the story behind you knowing Wetherly and Guff?" Marcus asked as he and Neeshka sat together quietly. The harbourman looked around the room to see what everyone else was doing. Elanee and Casavir were checking their healing kits and such as everyone had the feeling they'd be needing them before the night was over. Sand seemed to be looking through a small tome, but was aware of what was going on round him. Shandra was trying to teach Khelgar rock, paper, scissors, which was amusing to watch.

Neeshka smiled as she leaned her head on the harbourman's shoulder. "Not much to tell, really. They were both watchmen in the Docks when the Bloodsailors had control." She shrugged. "Guess I'd have been about ten or so at the time. I was learning the sneakman's trade from Vengaul and some of his people. I wasn't that good to start with, but I was fast and could talk my way out of most things. Wetherly and Guff always seemed to be the ones who would come after me," the tiefling explained, a soft smile on her lips.

Just then they could hear footsteps hurrying up the stairs. Deorwin and Finn appeared from around the corner. "Cap'n sent us to fetch you, Squire. There's some foul mist gathering downstairs, and the lights have gone funny," the sergeant said.

"Oh, how splendid. We get to slay demons," Sand said sarcastically as he stood.

"Sand!" Marcus half-heartedly reprimanded the moon elf, who was grinning. The harbourman turned to Deorwin and Finn. "You two had better stay up here and guard Lord Tavorick."

"Aye, Squire, as you say," Deorwin replied as Marcus led everyone back downstairs.

* * *

As they came downstairs, everyone could clearly see what Deorwin had meant by a 'foul mist gathering and the lights going funny'.

"It's been like this half a candle, no more. No sign of trouble yet, beyond the mist, the stink and the foul light," Ballard said as Marcus came to stand next to the captain.

No sooner than Ballard had finished speaking than the door flew open, as Guff and Wetherly came bursting in from the entry hall, looking a bit worse for wear. "Squire! A horde of little demons! They burst through the front hall and forced us back!" Guff yelled, as he and Wetherly ran as best as they could to where Marcus and everyone else were gathered.

"Aye, and something else, too, back behind the rest. Whatever it is, it's big!" Wetherly added.

Marcus nodded. "You're hurt, get yourselves behind us, and see to those wounds." He turned slightly to look at the wood elf. "El, I think they'll need your tender touch." Elanee nodded.

"Aye, Squire. A few bandages, and we'll be back in the fray. Though Guff'll still be ugly," Wetherly said as he and Guff gratefully accepted the help of the druid.

"Look sharp, Squire. They're coming through the door!" Ballard called.

Sure enough, a horde of imps and mephits started to stream through the door. However, there were that many trying to get through a relatively narrow gap that the inevitable was going to happen… the two barrels of blast globes sitting either side of the door were knocked over with disastrous results for the attackers. There was a deafening explosion as the blast globes ruptured and detonated, incinerating a good deal of the attacking demons.

"Now_ that__'__s_ what I call an explosion!" Neeshka breathed.

"They'll be coming again, Squire, and it's likely to get worse from here. What are your orders?" Ballard asked while they had a few moments.

"Stay near to Sand and Elanee, try and keep the demons off them while they're casting," Marcus said, indicating the two casters. The harbourman knew that Elanee could hold her own in a fight, but wanted to keep her safe as she was the closest thing to a cleric they had. The druid's healing and restoration spells would come in useful. Sand, being a wizard, really needed a bodyguard or two in a large battle like the one that was about to erupt around them.

Ballard nodded in understanding. "Aye, Squire. We'll make sure the two of them are free of distractions." The captain understood all too well the harbourman's reasoning. Guff grinned slightly at the thought of protecting the pretty wood elf. Wetherly rolled his eyes and smiled at his friend. Katriona tried not to pout as she had wanted to fight at Casavir's side, something she suspected Marcus had known.

Sure enough the next wave off attackers, another horde of imps and mephits, this time with several succubi, came pouring through what had been the main door. Marcus and Neeshka, working as a team, went to the far side of the room while Casavir and Shandra took the near side, trying to draw some of the attacking demons away from the others. This gave Sand the chance to unleash destruction from a distance as he dispatched the attackers with ice or magic missile storms. Elanee, not to be outdone by the wizard, brought lightning down on some of the demons, but her main job was to keep everyone alive and fighting. The attacking demons did try and kill the two casters but were met by the cold steel of Ballard and Katriona, who were staying near to Sand. Guff and Wetherly as well as Elanee's animal companion, dealt with any demons who threatened the wood elf.

A terrified shriek echoed from upstairs, making everyone, even the attacking demons, stop and stare at the stairwell. The voice sounded like that of an elderly man.

"Hells, that was Tavorick! Thrice-cursed demons got around us!" Ballard cursed. "Upstairs, Squire! _Go!_ We'll hold the rest of them here!" the captain cried.

"El, Neesh, you're with me! Everyone else stays down here!" the harbourman yelled as he made a mad dash for the stairs, closely followed by Neeshka and Elanee.

"I don't get it Casavir, why have the rest of us wait down here?" Shandra asked the paladin as they ran back to where Ballard and his men were at the base of the stairs.

"Tactics, my dear," Sand said. "Marcus has left two of Ballard's men guarding Tavorick, he and Neeshka are capable of casting arcane spells as well as being deadly with a blade. They may also require Elanee's healing skills, and lastly, there simply isn't the room upstairs for a large force. If we all went, we'd get in each other's way."

* * *

"Horrible beasts appeared out of nowhere! Just came shrieking out of the dark..." Tavorick said, a little out of breath as Marcus and Neeshka reached him. "Listen to me, Cole. Our only chance is the crypt. I had the place warded... they'll only be able to come through the door, and it should take them some time to penetrate the wards."

"The crypt is out the western door of the Great Hall and down a flight of steps, yes?" Marcus asked as Elanee saw to the wounds of Deorwin and Finn.

Tavorick nodded, a little surprised. "Yes here, take the key! Better you hold it than this bumbling old dotard," he said, handing the key to the harbourman.

"All right. Stay close, milord," Marcus said.

"No need to tell me that, Squire. I was the one who found Hawkes's corpse. If the demons get to me, I'm not likely to have that open-casket funeral I've always wanted," Tavorick replied.

Marcus shook his head slightly as he turned to Deorwin and Finn. "Are the two of okay to fight?" he asked.

"Aye, squire, we're in good enough shape to fight, thanks to your healer," Finn said quietly as he cast an appreciative glance at Elanee.

* * *

"Lord Tavorick. Good to see you alive," Ballard said as he saw everyone returned from upstairs.

"Even better to be so, Captain," Tavorick replied.

"The demons are keeping their distance, squire. It's as if they're waiting for us to move. And I caught a glimpse of the big one, the one Guff spied at the door. He's hanging back, giving orders. He's the source of the stench, too, you can trust in that," Ballard said as he turned to Marcus.

"Um… harbour boy, getting the old man from here to the crypt at the rate he moves at isn't going to work," Neeshka said.

"I know, Neesh, and I've been thinking about that," Marcus said as he turned to Tavorick. "Milord, as undignified as it may be, I'm going to have to piggyback you to the safety of the crypt. It's the only way we'll be able to move fast enough."

"What? Now, squire, why should you need to worry yourself when you have such a lovely companion who could do it for you?" Tavorick said, looking at Neeshka.

Neeshka made a face. "No way in the Nine Hells, old man," she muttered, tapping her foot. "I'm not nearly strong enough… and I don't want to be groped."

Marcus just grinned at the sad look on Tavorick's face. "Neesh is correct, milord, she isn't strong enough to carry you, whereas I am, and I'll still be able to move at a fair pace."

"Oh, very well. Let's get the humiliation over with!" Tavorick said as he climbed onto the harbourman's back.

"Humiliation for whom?" Marcus grunted. "Me or you?" he muttered. Tavorick gave the harbourman a whack on the back of the head with his walking stick. "Ow!" Marcus cried in surprise.

"Aw… don't worry, harbour boy, I'll kiss it better… later," Neeshka said with a wink.

"You're going to be the death of me, Neesh," Marcus replied with a smile. "Right… We're making a break for the crypt. Let's go!" the harbourman said as he headed for the door that would lead to the crypt at a brisk jog, Tavorick on his back. The harbourman caught a glimpse of the big demon that Guff had seen. He was big, easily filling the doorway and ugly as sin. Everyone else followed as quickly as they could, keeping the demons at bay.

* * *

"Predictable creatures, demons. Can't abide wards, not when they're done right," Tavorick said once they were all in the safety of the crypt. "Now they'll have to come at us through that… Oghma's eyes! What is that _stench_?" he cried.

"Just as a guess, old man, I'd say that big boss demon we saw," Neeshka said, as she wrinkled her nose.

There was a sniffing sound from the far side of the door, then a deep voice sounded. "I can smell you, little lordling. I can scent your craven soul amidst the dust of your ancestors," the demon taunted.

Marcus rolled his eyes. "And we can_ smell_ you, too. What do you want?" he asked, not expecting an answer.

"Ah… I am Qaggoth-yeg, leader of hordes, cleaver of babau and bebilith, the hunter who does not tire. From the yawning and clamorous layer of Yogguul was I plucked, and now I hunt at the bidding of my Master."

"_Master_?" Neeshka mouthed. "Not good, harbour boy," she said softly.

The demon took another deep sniff. "And who are you, my mortal friend?" he asked Marcus. "You have a wonderful scent about you. Beneath your weariness and your sweat, you smell of lives shattered, and hopes trod underfoot. Perhaps I could smell you better... if only I could come... a bit closer..."

"Everyone, get away from the door!" Marcus yelled as the demon begin to pound on the door. "Back against the rear wall! If you have ranged weapons, use them on him. He's a bit big to go toe to toe with."

The door shattered into splinters and the demon filled the doorway. He was unable to fit through, but his arms could and he swung them round trying to hit a target. Marcus, Neeshka, Sand and Elanee let loose with their spells, hammering the demon with magical energy. Ballard and his men used their longbows and used the demon as an oversized pin cushion. Khelgar, not being one to back down or listen, charged the demon head on, doing an impressive roll as he dodged the demon's massive arms. The dwarf then just started hacking away at the beast's legs with his war axe. The demon at last let out a howl as it fell, almost crushing the dwarf… then just faded away.

"That _thing_... it has a Master. You heard it, didn't you? I told Nasher this hoodwinking business wouldn't work, but does he listen to the eighty-four-year-old? No… Of course not," Tavorick rambled, once the demon had fallen.

"You don't have the shard, do you, old man?" Neeshka asked with a frown. "You passed it to that girl… Melia didn't you?"

"No, young lady. Not since yesterday. Passed it to Melia, just as you got here. Thought you hadn't noticed," Tavorick said with a rueful smile. "Whole business was a diversion, to get whoever's seeking the shard to reveal himself. Instead he sent that brute with the tongue-twisting name."

"So Melia isn't one of Ophala's girls, is she?" Marcus asked.

"Of course she's not," Tavorick said. "Melia's one of the Nine. She's holed up at the Moonstone Mask with a half-dozen guards, posing as patrons. Only the demon's Master has seen through our ruse. He sent the demons here to occupy you, and to kill me in the bargain. The man himself's on his way to the Mask to claim the shard… I'd bet my heirs on it, if I had any."

Marcus just let out a sigh as he didn't have the energy to curse. "Ballard, you and your men can look after Lord Tavorick. We've got a member of the Nine to save." Ballard nodded in response.

"I'm coming, too!" Katriona said. "You might need my help."

The harbourman and the paladin exchanged a look before Marcus turned to Katriona. "Fine, don't have time to argue anyway. And for Torm's sake, stay close to… us."

Katriona smiled as she took her place next to Casavir, as if she'd always been there… much to Shandra's disdain.


	20. The Mask attacked

"Our plan has failed, milord. The _Mask_ is under attack and I fear Melia will be in mortal danger," Ophala said, looking worried.

"Are you sure, old friend?" Nasher asked.

Ophala nodded gravely. "Yes, the security measures I have at the Mask have activated. The twelve battle horrors I have in the attic will slow the attackers down, but it will not stop them. I fear I'll only be in time to pick up the pieces."

"Go… do what you can, old friend," Nasher said as Ophala hurried out of the throne room. "And let us hope the squire can be of some assistance."

* * *

No sooner were Marcus and his friends through the door of the _Mask _than one of Ophala's girls came running up to them. She looked scared out of her mind.

"Thank the gods you're here!" the girl said, breathing heavily. "A man with glowing tattoos on his face came in here, with a pack of demons… and he's still upstairs now. He murdered Evlyn at the door, and if he's not stopped... he'll... please, you must do something!" she said, almost in hysterics.

"Mystra take the fiend for this!" Ophala hissed angrily as she came into the _Mask _to see the main entryway torn to ribbons and the eerily still form of her receptionist, Evlyn.

* * *

"I simply must insist that you give me the shard," the warlock said.

Melia looked around the room she was in. The last of the _Mask__'__s _battle horrors had fallen, but they had taken a good deal of the attacking demons with them. She also knew all her guards were dead, as were the handful of Ophala's girls that had been up here. It was up to her.

"No, sorry. I can't do that," Melia said calmly as she tightened the grip on her sword.

The warlock sighed. "So be it," he said. "I was hoping you would be reasonable about this."

* * *

The harbourman turned to face the owner of the _Mask _and almost did a double take. Knowing that Ophala was a mage was one thing, seeing it was another. The woman radiated power, all her protections were up and it was obvious to Marcus that Ophala had been expecting to duel another wizard.

"Marcus, upstairs with you! Melia needs your help!" Ophala said. "I'll look after everyone down here, _go_!" she urged. The harbourman nodded as he ran to the stairs, quickly followed by his companions.

* * *

"Ah, reinforcements…" the warlock said as Marcus and his party entered the room where Melia had been holed up. "I am afraid you are too late to save this one," he said, nodding at the still form of Melia. "And if it is the shard you're after, I am afraid I have that as well. It seems to me all you have left is your life... but that is easily corrected," the warlock said as he summoned two war hounds from the pits of the hells. With a shimmering curtain of power around himself, he simply… disappeared.

Shandra had turned white with shock on seeing the warlock. _It couldn__'__t be!_ But she knew in her heart that it was. The man who had just teleported out of the Moonstone Mask was her grandfather, Ammon Jerro, looking just like he did in that family portrait she had in her living room.

After dispatching the two war hounds, Marcus knelt by Melia's body. As he did so, the woman opened her eyes slightly. "Tell Nasher… lost the shard… too strong…" Melia said weakly, as her eyes fluttered closed.

Marcus looked up at Elanee and Casavir, both of whom shook their heads sadly. Melia was dead, her sword clutched in her right hand. Her body had been scorched by fire, and was covered with long, raking wounds. The pungent odour of burnt flesh hung in the air.

"That's it, then," Marcus said quietly as he stood.

"Not quite, harbour boy," Neeshka said as she looked towards Shandra.

"Shandra, what's wrong?" the harbourman asked, concerned when he saw how pale the farm girl was. "Looks like you've seen a ghost."

Shandra smiled weakly. "I think I might have done just that," she said, her voice shaking.

"Huh? What do you mean, lass?" Khelgar asked.

Shandra took a breath. "That warlock… that was my grandfather…. That was Ammon Jerro."

"How is that possible?" Elanee asked with a frown.

"I know my own grandfather!" the farm girl protested. "I have… well, _had_… some pictures and paintings of him when he was the Neverwinter court wizard. The man that teleported out of here was Ammon Jerro," Shandra said with conviction.

* * *

"Tell me again, Nevalle, why I agreed to have a new Luskan ambassador?" Nasher asked with a sigh. "And one that's a Hosttower mage no less, according to what Kari and Aarin have been able to dig up."

The captain of the Nine didn't know what to say. He didn't think he could say anything, nor did he think Nasher expected him too.

"Let's get this meeting with the new Luskan ambassador over with, preferably before the squire gets back," Nasher said with a resigned sigh. It was days like this that Nasher hated being Lord of a city.

* * *

Mephasm turned as he heard Ammon return. "So, you have the shard that was in Neverwinter, then?" he asked.

"Yes but the others elude me," the warlock replied, disappointed.

The pit fiend chuckled slightly. "Yet they were closer than you could have imagined, Jerro," Mephasm said as he made an image of Marcus and Neeshka appear. "He holds the shards you seek. The githyanki have a name for him. They call him the Kalach Cha, and with good reason."

Ammon narrowed his eyes. "I remember encountering him in Neverwinter and the tiefling girl was with him. What are you up to, Mephasm?" the warlock asked.

"I am not up to anything, Jerro," the pit fiend replied easily. "The events that are in motion will happen of their own accord. It all started when the sliver sword shattered when you first faced the King of Shadows," Mephasm explained. "There is more to say, but you have things to see to. Come and speak to me again when you've seen to the others."

* * *

"Oh dear…What happened to my home?" Aldanon said with a grunt as he placed his hands on his hips. "How did my manor get so... dark? And cold." The old sage was confused and didn't realise he was in a cell. "I'll have to ask my assistant to start the fire at once... I say, some light, please!" the sage called out as he walked to the cell door. "This door is odd. I don't remember having this placed in my home, either…" he said with a frown. "I say… anyone! This door is stuck!"

"Know that your words will not be heard in this place," came a soft female voice.

"Oh, forgive me... I wouldn't have raised my voice if I'd known someone was so close," Aldanon said apologetically. "This door seems to be stuck, really, quite embarrassing. Could you...?"

"My door is sealed as well… Garius will come for you soon enough," the mysterious woman said.

"Garius?" Aldanon asked with a frown. "That's not the name of my assistant."

"Garius is the Master of the Fifth Tower, and you are alive because he requires your assistance… as he once asked for mine," the mysterious woman answered.

Aldanon craned his neck a little, trying to get a better look at the woman he was talking to, but it was too dark. "I'm sorry, I can't see you too well at this angle... whatever do you mean? I'm always willing to help anyone, you know," he said cheerily.

"In this matter, you should choose death, for your sake and the sake of this plane. Garius seeks knowledge of an ancient Illefarn ritual that will grant him the power of the King of Shadows," the mysterious woman said in a quiet, sombre tone. "But his understanding of the ritual... is narrow."

"Oh, I can help there. Knowledge is something of a hobby of mine." Aldanon said eagerly, oblivious to the threat that Black Garius posed. "Perhaps I could shed some light on the trouble, especially if it involves books or cryptic rituals," he said. "I will say that this Garius fellow chose a poor place to do it… this hardly looks like it was part of the Illefarn empire at all," the sage remarked, looking round his cell.

"It is not. But power lies deep within the stones of this structure. It is one of the sites of the war against the King of Shadows when he touched this plane long ago," the mysterious woman said. "Part of him still resides here, and grants strength to his worshippers."

Aldanon snorted. "Well, no good comes from tinkering around with ancient powers... all this ritual nonsense doesn't sound very wise."

"It _is_ madness," the mysterious woman said quietly, almost to herself. "But with the madness comes power, and Garius will not turn away."

* * *

"I heard there was a battle at the Moonstone Mask. Is Melia...?" Nasher asked as Marcus bowed.

"No, milord, she was killed by a warlock," the harbourman said. "We were too late to do anything. He also took the shard that Melia had."

"That is... terrible news. Without her, the Nine are weakened tremendously, and she will be missed," Nasher said gravely. "The killer… were you at least able to catch him?"

Marcus shook his head. "There was nothing we could do… he was there, then gone again. Though I have to say, for a supposedly dead man, he was awfully lively."

"Explain yourself," Nasher said.

"Well… it seems that the mysterious warlock is none other than Ammon Jerro, who just happened to have a gith silver sword. If you ask me, he's trying to find the pieces of his broken sword, but for what reason… I'm not sure," Marcus said with a shrug.

"Do you realise what you're saying?" Nasher asked.

"I do, milord. Shandra here turned white as a sheet when she saw him," Marcus said, indicating the farm girl, who still looked a little uneasy. "If anyone should know what her grandfather looks like, it's Shandra."

Nasher sighed. "Then it seems there is little more to be done. I can dispatch the Many-Starred Cloaks to the Moonstone Mask and Cyran's home to look for clues..." Nasher shook his head, "...but as for what they can turn up, I do not know. It looks like justice has been denied this day. Nonetheless, you are to be congratulated for saving Lord Cyran's life."

"Milord… if I had known one of the Nine was involved, maybe I could have done _something_…" the harbourman said quietly, as it felt to him like a hollow victory. Tavorick was alive but at what cost?

Nasher nodded his understanding, as he could see the anguish in the harbourman's eyes. "Keeping her identity a secret was not meant to harm you or her… but there were too many uncertainties in these deaths as it stood to risk it. I am sorry if you find that difficult to understand, but it was my decision to make, not yours." Marcus gave a small nod. "If there was a trail, I would ask you to track down this murderer... but without one... I fear we will have to bide our time," Nasher said with disdain. "However, another matter has recently been brought to our attention. It seems that we have an even larger problem within Neverwinter than we first thought… but it's getting late and you've been on the go for too long without rest. Come back tomorrow morning, squire, well rested…."

Marcus noticed the annoyed look the passed over Nasher's face and the harbourman turned to see what the reason was. Marcus saw a very large rotund woman enter the throne room, followed by a weedy looking man.

"I hope we are not intruding. It seems Neverwinter is quite active, as of late," the woman said.

"I said I would send for you later, after I am done here," Nasher said coldly. He was not happy with Sydney Natale, the Luskan Hosttower mage-turned-ambassador.

"My apologies, Lord Nasher. But our conversation earlier was a bit brief, and I did not think it would be best for both our cities to wait any longer... forgive my impatience," Sydney said with a slight bow, then she paused. "Ah, is this the Harbourman... the _squire_ I have heard so much about?" she asked, looking at Marcus.

Sand leaned over. "Careful, Marcus," he whispered. "Hosttower mage... and a high-ranking one as well."

"Well… Whoever she is, harbour boy, she's powerful... and she's masking it well, too," Neeshka said quietly.

"Milord, if this is an inappropriate time, I will take my leave," Marcus said. He had no desire to be in the same room as anyone from Luskan.

Nasher shook his head. "No, no… I want you here, squire, this merits your attention. This is Sydney Natale, our new ambassador from Luskan. She arrived earlier today, and I had hoped to speak to you privately before the three of us met," Nasher said with a nod. "Her associate is… Khralver, I believe…"

"Well met, sir. It is my pl…" Khralver began.

"Khralver is of no consequence, he is here to assist me… and silently," Sydney said, throwing a slightly angry look at her assistant. "The news I bring concerns you, Lord Nasher, and I most of all, so it is fitting you have arrived. I had hoped to speak to you before leaving, in any event," Sydney said to Marcus.

"Well now, isn't that convenient. I'm listening," Marcus said, folding his arms over his chest.

"There has been a miscommunication, so I have travelled from Luskan to straighten certain matters out. If they were left to rumour, gossip, or surface appearances, they might be... misconstrued," Sydney said with a slight shrug. "You have recently had trouble with those you believe affiliated with Luskan, when, in fact, they are not connected to or supported by us at all." The harbourman snorted at this, but motioned for Sydney to continue. "There are four towers in Luskan, each ruled by a skilled mage... and we four work tirelessly to aid Luskan and its people. But there is a self-styled 'Master of the Fifth Tower,' who, as his title suggests, has... overstepped his bounds." Marcus' eyes narrowed. "This mage is a man by the name of Garius… 'Black' Garius, I believe is yet another title he uses… silly, really, but he really does believe he casts a longer shadow than he does." Sydney shrugged again; the motion started to irritate Marcus even more. "Nevertheless, he has been quite... industrious as of late... almost as industrious as you, my dear Harbourman. But he is not affiliated with our city or its interests… unlike you and your long-standing ties to service in Neverwinter."

"And?" Marcus asked, clearly annoyed now. "I'm sure the point to this conversation will come along _sometime_ today?"

"Ambassador Natale informed me earlier that she believes Black Garius began the war with their island neighbour, Ruathym," Nasher said, trying to get things back on track.

Sydney nodded. "Yes. And it has served as a convenient means to distract Luskan from its real priorities. Regardless, Ruathym was an aggressor for quite some time, so action needed to be taken, regardless..."

"I believe the Lord's Alliance would have taken exception to that... as do I," Nasher said as a veiled warning. He didn't fully trust Luskan or its motives.

"I am certain they would have, milord. But since Ruathym attacked us first, it is our responsibility to deal with their aggression and quickly... you can expect little else from island barbarians, really." Sydney smiled briefly before she turned back to the harbourman. "You see, Ruathym believed that Luskan had stolen a precious artefact from them… a book called the Tome of Iltkazar."

"The Tome of Iltkazar?" Sand asked, sounding slightly surprised. "I'd heard it had been… mislaid. But _stolen_?"

Sydney nodded. "Yes, a powerful artefact... and not only did its sudden disappearance lead two nations to war, but in the wrong hands, it can be used to channel tremendous power. We believe that Black Garius has made an alliance with someone known as 'the King of Shadows' … a man or creature… of whom we know very little. Garius was no doubt able to steal the Tome of Iltkazar with help from this ally… and use it to bolster his armies with golems awakened by the Tome."

"He sparked a war for a _book_?" Neeshka asked, scratching her head with the tip of her tail. "Wouldn't that make it a Luskan matter?"

Sydney shook her head. "No… unfortunately, his ambitions do not end there. We have received word that he intends to perform a powerful ritual within the lands of Neverwinter, with knowledge he has stolen from the very King of Shadows he serves. I have heard of the loss of your local sage… Aldanon, but I suspect he is a part of this."

Marcus frowned. "What do you mean by _that_, ambassador?"

"I suspect he was kidnapped to provide the last of the missing pieces to the ritual… a ritual that will steal power from the 'King of Shadows'… and grant it to Garius." Sydney hesitated for a moment. "The exact powers granted are not known to me… or my fellow mages, which is a further cause for concern. But I have told you all I know."

"You said Garius was in Neverwinter territory? But you don't know where?" Casavir asked with a deep frown.

"We felt it was not only our duty to clear up any ties you might believe exist between Luskan and this criminal, but also inform you of his whereabouts… he and his forces are in a ruined castle, Crossroad Keep, within Neverwinter lands. Normally, Luskan would not hesitate to take action against such a criminal, but with the confusion that has already occurred, we felt it was best to advise Lord Nasher… and you… of the situation and allow you to do what you feel is best," Sydney said.

"Why Crossroad Keep? And in Neverwinter territory?" the harbourman asked.

Sydney smiled. "As a practitioner of the arcane, I think you will understand this better than others. Crossroad Keep was the site of a great battle in the past, the one against the King of Shadows, in fact. That much we have been able to uncover."

Marcus nodded in understanding. "So any arcane energy left over from the battle, even long ago, they may be able to tap into… especially if it's tied to the King of Shadows. The residue of the King of Shadows may create a stronger tie, make the ritual more powerful and… more dangerous."

"Correct. I see my expertise may be wasted with such a sharp mind at your command, Lord Nasher," Sydney said dryly.

"So you are denying what happened at Ember? That Luskan had no involvement?" Elanee asked calmly.

"Yes, that is correct," Sydney said with another of her shrugs.

"Um... pardon me, but officially, I have been asked to reinforce, I mean reassure you, of that fact. Logically, it would be foolish for Luskan to spark a war on two fronts, and not only tha..." Khralver began.

"Khralver, _enough_," Sydney said coldly. "What happened at Ember was unfortunate, but Luskan would _never_ condone such an action."

"You're lying!" Shandra cried, clearly getting mad.

"Watch yourself, _girl_," Sand warned in a low voice.

Sydney, however, had heard the farm girl, and turned towards her with a smile that froze her dead in her tracks. "My dear, I would be careful with such words, lest you offend me. I have come in good faith, and you are in danger of throwing it back in my face."

"So the Sea Ghost spies, the assassins, the destruction of Ember?" Neeshka asked, her tail swishing about in agitation. She'd been getting more and more stressed listening to the hot air of the Luskan ambassador. "You knew nothing, had no involvement with _any_ of it?" she hissed.

"That is correct, and all you have is my word. As your _girlfriend_, squire... has indicated, that does not seem to be enough." Sydney replied doing her best to insult the tiefling.

The harbourman snorted. "Excuse me if I do not believe you, ambassador. As you yourself said there are four towers in Luskan, each ruled by a skilled mage... and the four work tirelessly to aid Luskan and its people... If that's the case, care to explain why no one noticed, took any action at all when the shipments to Ember just… stopped?"

"The matter of Luskan and Ember is for me to decide," Nasher said sternly. "We both are aware of the threat this... Black Garius represents. If Luskan is interested in peace and cooperation, it is for the good of Neverwinter to respect that intention."

"I cannot in good conscience, milord. If there are those in Luskan involved, then they should be made to answer for it, as I almost had to do," Marcus said, his eyes shooting blue flames.

"I see the Harbourman… and his _lackeys_… are as stubborn as I have heard. I did not expect you to understand the subtleties of state and the delicate touch that politics requires, especially in these equally-delicate times," Sydney said in a voice that dripped condescension.

"No, he's right! This isn't about politics, it's about the people of Ember…" Shandra spoke up again. "You had to have known what was going to happen, and to let it… just be conveniently forgotten like this... it's... it's..."

"Shandra Jerro, the strength of Neverwinter comes from its citizens, and you have shown me that now," Nasher said calmly. "But listen to me. There are greater threats to Neverwinter as we speak. What happened at Ember is unfortunate, but I believe the one responsible has been punished for that crime. If we carry the accusation further to Luskan, I do not believe it is warranted, and furthermore, _I_ am the one who sets policy in this court. This is not about one man, or one village. This is about Neverwinter, and it is about protecting what exists."

"Lord Nasher, I had a friend, Alaine at Ember, who barely escaped, but so many others..." Shandra started quietly.

"I know, and I am sorry for their loss," Nasher said. He was being sympathetic to the farm girl. After all, he'd lived through the razing of Neverwinter. "But unless this Garius is stopped, I fear that another tragedy will occur, much greater than what occurred at Ember. Justice will come for those… in time, but not today. And I need you to accept it. We all have burdens to bear, and if they must be carried so that the people of Neverwinter may be safe, that is what must be done."

"Lord Nasher… Ambassador Natale, Crossroad Keep... I fear that..." Khralver said.

"_Silence_, Khralver. Do not make me remind you again," Sydney growled. "Lord Nasher, forgive me, but Black Garius may have begun the ritual, quick action is needed. I have done what I could to inform you of what we know - it is up to you to act, if you wish." She then turned to Marcus. "And Harbourman, as further proof of my good faith and the good faith of Luskan, rest assured I will keep looking for information on this King of Shadows... and any proof I can bring that Luskan had no involvement with Ember." Marcus rolled his eyes and snorted at that.

"I imagine such _'__proof__'_ will come in time," Shandra said coldly.

"Yes, girl, in fact, I _know_ it will," Sydney replied before she bowed. "Thank you all for hearing me. I realise these are difficult times for Neverwinter, and it was not my intention to bring another but Luskan could not remain silent while this threat to its southern neighbour loomed. Farewell." With that Sydney turned on her heel and walked out of the throne room with Khralver scurrying to keep up.

Nasher let out a breath. He was impressed by the harbourman, though it was painfully obvious what he and his companions thought of the new Luskan ambassador. "I have already dispatched the Many-Starred Cloaks and troops to Crossroad Keep, and I want you to go as well. Garius must be stopped. I want you to leave as soon as you are able to travel. Rescue Aldanon, and you are do everything in your power to stop this ritual Garius intends to perform," Nasher said.

Marcus nodded his understanding "Lord Nasher, before I go, about Luskan involvement with Ember..."

Nasher sighed. "I understand your desire to see justice done for the people of Ember, squire, but Luskan is _not _your concern at this time. You have your orders, and I want you to focus on them. One day… soon you may come to see the bigger picture. When one governs a city or… a keep, there are many things that one must take into account."

"As you wish, milord," Marcus said quietly. He almost sounded defeated.

"Hey, come on, harbour boy," Neeshka said, putting her arms around him. "Let's go home, get some rest, then go rescue the old loon and deal with that thorn in our side, Garius."

"Home, Neesh?" Marcus said. "We don't really have one."

"I know, Marcus but one day we will," Neeshka replied. "Then we can get our life back."

"Our life, sweetheart?" the harbourman asked with a raised eyebrow. "And what life would that be exactly?" he asked.

Neeshka smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, you know, the one where you marry me and we have a family," she said, trying to make her man smile. _Like I'm going to end up married and have kids,_ she thought bitterly.

Marcus grinned. "Now that life does sound like something I'd like to get back, sweetheart. Let's get back to the _Flagon_."

As Marcus, Neeshka and their friends left the throne room, Nasher leaned back on his throne and steepled his fingers under his chin, a slight smile on his face. _A home you both want then, a home you both shall get_, Nasher thought to himself. _It is high time that Crossroads Keep was rebuilt and I think I've found just the people to do it._


	21. Black Garius

"This place has seen better days," Marcus remarked as they approached Crossroad Keep. The Keep's outer wall had been clearly breached in several places, rubble still strewn about after all these years. What the harbourman could see of the main Keep looked to him as if the roof had fallen in long ago. Even the road that led up to the Keep was in a poor state of repair.

"Look… that farmer... they didn't even bury him, they just left him for the vultures," Shandra said as she noticed the decayed corpse of man near the roadside. "Why would they do this? It's… monstrous."

"The Luskan military… or what passes for such and the Hosttower are sadly not known for their treatment of ordinary folk. That and they didn't want anyone informing Neverwinter of their presence here," Sand replied.

"Don't worry, Shandra, we'll see that he and anyone else gets a proper burial once we're done here," Marcus said. "We can do that if nothing else." Casavir nodded his agreement.

"Thank you, Marcus. These poor people deserve as much," the farm girl said with a sad smile.

A moon elf came running across what once had been a farmer's field, but now was nothing more than weeds in a paddock. "Squire, my name is Vale and I'm leading the Many-Starred Cloaks," he said as he motioned off to the left, behind a burned out farm house. "This way, quickly, before the Luskans notice your arrival."

Marcus and his companions followed Vale as quickly as they could to where the rest of the Cloaktower mages and Greycloaks were waiting.

"The Luskans change guard shifts around this time, moving men in and out of the Keep," Vale said. "However, we can't waste much time. We were able to translate some of the writing in that journal you recovered from Arval, and if we're right, something _very_ bad is taking place in there," the wizard said with a worried frown. "I recommend we strike hard and fast, _hopefully_ taking them by surprise and disrupting their plans."

"Neesh, keep a look out, watch the main gate," Marcus said to the tiefling, who nodded and slipped into the shadows. "Alright, sounds reasonable, what are we up against?" the harbourman asked, turning back to Vale.

"Around twenty Luskan soldiers in the courtyard… most of them asleep… and a handful more inside the Keep. The Arcane Brotherhood wizards will be more of a challenge, but we can handle them," Vale said confidently.

That made Sand frown. "You're not certain of the Brotherhood's numbers?" he asked. It was clear to Sand that Vale had no idea that Garius was inside.

Vale waved his hand dismissively. "Luskan is just probing our defences. The Hosttower wouldn't risk too many wizards on this sort of mission."

"Vale, you haven't been told the full story have you?" Sand asked. "We are here to stop Black Garius from completing an unknown ritual that as you put it is very bad for all of us if he succeeds."

The Cloaktower wizard went slightly pale. "Nasher never mentioned _that_," he muttered. "It's going to make things more challenging, but we should be alright if we strike hard and fast."

"Hey, harbour boy, the Luskans are opening the gate!" Neeshka hissed. "Looks like it's showtime." The tiefling was having a hard time keeping the eagerness out of her voice.

The Luskan gate guards were taken almost by complete surprise as the Neverwinter assault force made up of Marcus, his seven companions, twelve Greycloaks and ten Cloaktower mages, descended on them. With the first obstacle eliminated, the assault force made its way into the keep courtyard as quietly as they could. Neeshka grinned when she spotted a group of five Luskans asleep round a fire that was all but out. The tiefling summoned a greater orb of fire before hurling it at the sleeping solders. The orb of fire hit the dead centre of the campfire before it exploded, killing the five Luskans.

"If I didn't know any better, Neesh, I'd say you're enjoying yourself," Marcus said, a little worried.

"Well… maybe just a little, harbour boy," the tiefling replied, looking guilty. "After what they've put you… put_ us_ through, it's good to get some payback, you know."

"I know, Neesh, but all I ask is not to get too joyful," Marcus said. "I don't want to lose you to your heritage, sweetheart, I love you," he said, kissing the tiefling quickly on the cheek.

"We're under attack! You, men… get back in there and seal the doors!" the Luskan captain shouted as two of his men dashed up the rise to the Keep entrance. "Rally to me! Push these Neverwinter dogs back!" he cried, charging.

"Hey, who are you calling a dog, pig face!" Neeshka cried, as she let loose with a magic missile barrage before she drew her rapier and got up close and personal.

* * *

"Damn it," Vale said with annoyance after the last Luskan fell. "Nathe, Sevann… I want those doors open._ Now_," he said, and then turned to Marcus. "Sorry about the delay. This should only take a moment."

Marcus shrugged. "It's all right. Battles are usually unpredictable, more often than not."

"Vale, we're being counterspelled. I don't think we're going to be able to open the doors from this side," Nathe said.

"Oh, wonderful. Looks like the Brotherhood has a few tricks of its own. No thanks to Garius, I'd imagine," Vale grumbled. "All right… backup plan. I know this keep has an escape tunnel somewhere," he said, turning to Marcus. "Squire, I want you to find the tunnel exit and use it to get inside the keep. Once you're inside, kill whichever wizards are countering our spells so we can open the doors. The tunnel entrance will be in the mountains, far beyond these walls, where invaders would be unlikely to look," Vale explained to the harbourman.

"Alright, we'll go have a look around, see what we can find," Marcus said as he and his companions left the keep courtyard.

"All the grand adventure tales never say how much walking, running and fighting is actually involved, do they?" Sand remarked dryly, not the he really minded too much. He was out of his shop and had good company.

* * *

"What are you plotting, Mephasm?" Ammon asked as he walked up to the pit fiend.

"Why should I bet plotting anything?" Mephasm replied, a fake innocent expression firmly in place.

The warlock snorted. "You're a devil, that's what your kind does."

"True, maybe I am plotting somewhat, but only to insure that the King of Shadows is defeated permanently this time. The lower planes gain nothing if he wins. In fact, we stand to lose a great deal," Mephasm said as he summoned an image of Marcus and Neeshka again. "The githyanki call him the Kalach-cha which, as I understand it, translates to mean shard bearer, which is appropriate, considering that's what he is."

Ammon frowned. "Mind explaining what you mean by that?" he asked.

"What I mean, Jerro, is this. The young man has a key part of the silver sword embedded in his chest, that part calls the others. That is why he has found as many fragments as he has." The pit fiend looked the warlock square in the eyes. "It also means he is the_ only_ one who can reforge and wield the sword against the King of Shadows."

Ammon Jerro cursed under his breath. "And you're telling me this now? Why?" he demanded.

"I've only just becomes aware of most of this recently. Also, you never asked," the pit fiend replied, matter of fact. "However, that does not mean you don't have your part to play. He'll seek this Haven out in time. He knows you had a silver sword. Possibly, by the time he comes here, he may have realised he's been finding the pieces of that sword. You now hold a piece of the sword, so your meeting will be inevitable."

Ammon grunted. "Even if he did manage to find this place, there's no way for him to enter."

Mephasm smiled. "That's where you're very wrong, Jerro. You are not the last of the Jerro line as you seem to think. There is another. The two of you will meet when the time is right, but you must be aware and do not do anything... rash," the pit fiend warned.

Ammon sighed heavily as he hated it when Mephasm was cryptic about something. "So what does the tiefling girl have to do with all this?" he asked.

The pit fiend rubbed his chin in thought. "Ah, that, my dear Jerro, would be telling, now wouldn't it? She has her part to play, as do we all. She moves out of the sight of the lower planes, quite the achievement." Mephasm frowned a little. "Though I did not foresee her... bond with the shard bearer."

Ammon gave the pit fiend a curious glance, then looked at the image of the pair and began to chuckle. "Are you trying to tell me, Mephasm, that even with all your carful plotting and scheming, you failed to take into account human feelings?" he asked.

"Yes," the pit fiend replied shortly.

Ammon began to laugh. "So your pet project," he waved at Neeshka's image, "and he are... lovers, and you never considered that might happen?"

"No I didn't," Mephasm admitted. "I had thought the stigma of her heritage would be enough, though in this case it seems to have backfired." The pit fiend smiled slightly. "Not a total loss."

Ammon now had his laughter under control. "It pleases me greatly that even people such as yourself are as fallible as the rest of us."

* * *

"Nothing human has passed through this tunnel in some time… it has seen use by beasts, but nothing more," Elanee said as she stood up from studying the escape tunnel that would lead into Crossroad Keep.

"If by beasts, I hope you don't mean the size of that huge glow spider," Shandra said, looking ill.

The wood elf shook her head. "No, nothing of Kistrel's size. But there are likely to be spiders and beetles that call this tunnel home."

"Oh, wonderful," the farm girl muttered.

"Neesh, keep an eye out for traps and the like," Marcus said, looking into the gloom. "I wouldn't be at all surprised that there are some still here from when the keep was in regular use."

The tiefling grinned. "You got it, harbour boy."

* * *

In the bowels of Crossroad Keep, Black Garius stood in the centre of the ritual circle. Around him were four lesser Hosttower Mages, one standing at each of the four major compass points.

"The chamber is ready, Master Garius. The ritual may begin whenever you wish."

"Very well," Garius said as he looked round curiously, noticing the absence of their shadow priest allies. "Where are the Shadow Priests?"

"They took their leave, Master, once they were done preparing the chamber for the ritual."

"Deal with them when we are done here," Garius said, almost as an afterthought. "After this night, we shall have no further use for them... or their 'King of Shadows'."

"It shall be as you command, Master Garius."

"Then let us begin the ritual… order the rest of the brotherhood here at once," Garius said, as an evil smile spread across his face. "After all, we wouldn't want to keep Neverwinter… waiting."

* * *

"Oh. I say... I remember you," Aldanon said, sounding a little distracted. He turned to face Marcus and his friends as they came out of the old escape tunnel and into what had once been the keep's library, though like the rest of the building, it had seen better days. "You were the one with those interesting silver shards." The sage frowned a little. "Although I'm afraid I'm not certain if I introduced myself the first time we met." He looked up at the harbourman. "Did I?"

"Yes, you did, Aldanon," Marcus said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, excellent, good to see I haven't completely forgotten my manners. Tend to be a little forgetful at times, you know," Aldanon said with some relief.

"I'm aware, all too well," Marcus said dryly. "We're here to rescue you."

"Oh, yes, that's right, I was captured, wasn't I?" said the sage, surprised. "Truth be told, I totally forgot about it… they gave me these tomes and some peace and quiet, and, well, I suppose I just lost track of time." Aldanon waved to a pile of books on a small table. "You see, these books... They all concern some sort of horrific ritual, something about bringing shadows and power to all the recipients involved," he said, surprised, as what the ritual entailed began to sink in. "I haven't gotten all the details down yet, wanted to do a thorough study first, but it all seems terribly threatening. Don't care for it at all," Aldanon said with a shake of his head.

"Why would they have these books? What are they for, old man?" Neeshka asked.

"Well, I suspect they intend to invoke these dark arts. If so, they'd best be careful. The slightest disruption could have lethal consequences. Mark my words, it always pays to triple check all your wards and post guards to prevent interruptions if you ever plan to do something of the sort," Aldanon said. "You know, it _does _remind me of this one time where I had let my wards down to let a messenger in, and this kidnapper struck, completely uns..."

"We don't have time for this, old man," Neeshka said, her tail twitching. "There's a bunch of mages wanting to do this ritual, you know, like, as we speak…?"

Aldanon looked slightly alarmed at the tiefling's pronouncement. "Well, like I said… or think I said… I don't know if they'd actually _try_ to do the ritual. It would be a foolish thing to do, very dangerous. They would need a lot of room and privacy for the ritual, so I would simply find a large room, with heavy doors, and a lot of chanting," the sage said, nodding. "That should be the one. But you young people worry too much about your elders... _we're_ not the ones running headlong into danger all the time," he said, shaking his finger at Neeshka.

"They lied to you, Aldanon, so how do we stop this ritual?" Marcus asked.

"Oh... well, stopping it would be easy. Simply do what you young people do best… kick down the door and make a lot of noise," the sage said. "Like my gardener after one too many swigs from his wineskin."

"Right, we're going to go find them," Marcus said. "Get out of here, Aldanon, and warn Neverwinter."

"Well, now, I don't know if there's any hurry to leave, really… I'm certainly not concerned," the sage protested, as he turned back to the book he had been reading. "And there's all these wonderful books. Granted, my captors may have had an unusual way of getting my attention...."

The harbourman let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Katriona, escort the sage back to Neverwinter and make sure he gets there."

"Oh, very well… as long as I could come back later, you know. Save these books. I mean, they even have a copy of the Tome of Vile Darkn…" Aldanon said as Katriona came up to him.

"I'm not repeating myself, Aldanon! Get going!" Marcus bellowed.

"All right, all right! I'll leave at once," the sage said as Katriona led him to the escape tunnel. "This whole ruckus is probably about nothing, as usual, just like my 'kidnapping' in Blacklake... At least my kidnapper is prettier than last time," he mumbled.

"Remind me never to send anyone to Aldanon again," Sand said with a sigh.

* * *

"Nice work. I don't suppose you left any for us?" Vale asked as he and the rest of the Many-Starred Cloaks walked into the keep through the now open front doors.

"What? And give up some of the fun?" Khelgar asked. "Not likely, Pointy-Ears."

"So I see," Vale said, looking around at all the bodies. "In any case, we still need to find Aldanon and the rest of the Arcane Brotherhood.... and Garius." Vale wasn't looking forward to that encounter.

"Aldanon was unharmed, and he's heading back to Neverwinter under the escort of Katriona, to make sure he gets there," Marcus said.

"Glad to hear it. Now, we should…" Vale said.

Sand looked around, very worried, as he studied the lights dimming all around them. "Ah... this would be the _'__impending__'_ part of our impending doom. But wh- ennnh..."

"What's going on? I feel... weak," Vale said.

"_That'__ll_ be Black Garius's ritual. Which we need to stop," Marcus said grimly.

The Cloaktower mage swallowed. "Black Garius... Our chances against him are slim, and I'm being optimistic," he said, looking pale. "But we'll just have to keep going and hope for the best. May Mystra watch over us."

"Agreed. Whatever the odds, we need to find Garius and _stop_ him," Casavir said with a nod, thankful that Marcus had sent Katriona away.

* * *

"Oh, look, a Shadow Priest welcoming committee, how quaint," Sand remarked as they passed through one of the few doors that were still intact within the Keep, and were confronted by four Shadow Priests.

"You may not pass, Marcus Cole. Our King forbids it. Garius will be reborn this night," the Shadow Priestess said with quite a bit of confidence.

"Really? I beg to differ," the harbourman said, casting a grater orb of cold point blank at the Shadow Priestess, who let out an ear-splitting, high-pitched scream as she was snap frozen. Marcus averted his eyes; he had no wish to see the woman die. _Killing a woman doesn__'__t seem right somehow,_ the harbourman thought bitterly. _But then, neither did killing those teenagers._

Neeshka, Khelgar and Casavir had soon dealt with the other three Shadow Priests the hard way, with their weapons. After the last priest had fallen, they noticed what looked to be two cell doors. One was open and was presumably where Aldanon had been held. The other was quite clearly sealed with powerful magic, as it was glowing a soft blue.

"Watch your fingers… a glowing door is rarely a good thing, I've found," Neeshka said as she reached out carefully and brushed a hand against the door, and then pulled it back by reflex. "Wasn't expecting _that,_" she muttered.

"What's wrong, Neesh?" Marcus asked, as he came to stand along side the tiefling and brushed his hand against the door. "Seems alright to me," he said.

"Hey, blood of the lower planes, remember?" Neeshka said. "Whoever or whatever is in that cell isn't from around _here _if you get my meaning. They're likely from another plane. Take your pick as to which one."

Vale looked taken aback. "How can you tell _that_?" he asked. Sand stood just behind the Cloaktower mage, smiling. His tiefling student was a joy to watch.

Neeshka grinned. "Anyone with planar blood and mage training would be able to tell that the wards on this cell door are to prevent someone who is not of the prime material plane from escaping."

"Neeshka, my dear, I do believe you've been learning your lessons well," Sand said with a self satisfied smirk, one he made sure Vale saw. "However, that door is heavily warded and we don't have the time to undo them," the wizard said with a frown. "But once we've dealt with Garius and the rest of the brotherhood mages, it should be easier."

"Looks like we're going down," said Khelgar as he looked down a flight of steps, at the bottom of which were heavy double doors that would lead to the basement of the derelict keep. "Just hope these stairs hold together."

* * *

The mysterious woman, whose name was Zhjaeve, whom Aldanon had spoken to briefly, had stood up from where she had been sitting near the back of the cell when she'd heard the sounds of combat outside her cell door. She could now hear the voices of the harbourman and his party.

"_Know_, Kalach-Cha, that even if you succeed this night, you also fail," Zhjaeve said quietly. "For the Shadow King's power runs too deep in this place. After this night his power here shall wane but he will have what he desires." Zhjaeve turned and walked to the back of the cell once again and sat down. This time, however, she was facing the door.

* * *

"Uh... this _doesn't _look good," Shandra said as she saw the twelve foot tall blade golem guarding the doors to where the ritual was taking place.

"Oh, great… as if this thing wasn't bad enough_ last_ time," Neeshka grumbled. "And there's no portal to drive it through either," she pouted.

"Well, goat girl, looks like we finally have a _decent_ fight on our hands," Khelgar said with grim glee.

The golem charged, but was met by Marcus, Casavir, Khelgar and Shandra. While the armoured warriors kept the golem busy and away from the spell casters, Sand, Neeshka and the Cloaktower mages unleashed their spells on the hulking metal monster. Elanee meanwhile did her best to keep the armoured fighters alive and fighting, healing the worst of their injuries, as the golem's massive blade wasn't all that easy to dodge. At last the massive golem toppled over in a shower of sparks.

Sand let out a resigned sigh. "I had hoped to salvage some of it to repair the one we have back in Neverwinter. Not much chance of that." The golem had fallen, nothing more than a heap of scrap metal.

The torches along the hallway suddenly went a dim, eerie red. "The effects from the ritual are getting worse. We're running out of time," Vale said weakly.

"You don't say, Pointy-Ears," Khelgar muttered as Elanee saw to his wounds.

"Let's get this farce over with," Marcus growled as he walked toward the doors in front of them. He could hear chanting from behind them.

* * *

Garius turned suddenly as the door to the chamber was kicked in by the harbourman, who quickly stepped through the gap and was followed by his six friends and the Cloaktower mages. "You four… ignore them! Keep concentrating!" Garius cried, his voice strained by the effort of the ritual. "The rest of you … kill them!" he ordered the remaining brotherhood wizards and their bodyguards.

The battle that followed was short and very chaotic, as there were spells of just about every conceivable kind thrown in almost every direction. Marcus, Casavir, Khelgar and Shandra engaged the Luskan bodyguards while Sand, Neeshka and the Cloaktower mages dealt with the brotherhood mages. Elanee seemed to be everywhere at once, healing anyone who needed it. No one was expecting what happened when the last of the Luskans fell, leaving Garius and his four lieutenants open to attack.

"Idiots! You're not focusing…" Garius yelled before he let out a horrid scream and burst into dark flame. The grim spectacle wasn't over, as then four jets of dark flame shot out from Garius and into his lieutenants, who also burst into dark flame. One by one his lieutenants died, letting out a blood curdling scream as they did so. The torches on the walls of the chamber returned normal as the last of Garius' lieutenants fell.

"What... have you _done_ to me?" Garius gasped weakly, looking at Marcus. His outrage at what was happening was obvious to hear.

"You did it to yourself, Garius," the harbourman replied, as the Luskan wizard fell dead to the floor.

"What in the hells was going on _here_?" Vale asked, shaken, as the series of events began to sink in.

"What you see here, Vale, is the price one pays when attempting to use power without the means to control it… or understand it," Sand remarked, looking down at the remains of Garius.

"Hey, look in Garius' hand… or what's left of it," Neeshka said as she lightly stepped over to the Luskan's corpse. "It looks like…" the tiefling bent down, wrinkling her nose, and carefully retrieved what she'd seen before standing up and turning to Marcus, a big grin on her face. "Another silver shard. Here, you better keep hold of it, harbour boy," Neeshka said as she handed it to the harbourman.

"Thanks, sweetheart. Another piece of the sword, I guess," Marcus said with a slight smile.

"Well, it _would_ have been nice to crush Garius ourselves, but it's a little more satisfying for him to be undone by his own ritual," Khelgar grumbled.

"We have prevented a great evil here…" Casavir said with a frown. "But something... something _still_ feels wrong." He shook his head. "Perhaps it is simply the after effect of the ritual and its power?" The paladin didn't sound convinced by his own words.

"No, you are correct, Casavir, something is still wrong," Elanee said grimly. "The power here is what I felt at the heart of the Mere… and almost as strong." The druid looked round. "We have stopped this ritual, but we should remain on our guard. Shadow still touches this place… and these bodies."

"We need to report back to Neverwinter immediately and tell Lord Nasher what happened here," Vale said, looking and feeling out of his depth. He had no idea as to what was going on, and he really didn't want to. Not after what he'd seen happen to Garius.

"Alright, but I'm going back up and going to have a look at that cell we found. Don't want to leave any surprises for the next tenant, now, do we?" Marcus said as he turned back to the door.

Vale chuckled. "I pity whoever Nasher tasks with getting this place back in shape. After all, we were pretty free with slinging spells."

Marcus stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Who do you think Nasher will send?" he asked, a thoughtful look on his face accompanied by a slight frown.

Vale gave a shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine, squire, but knowing Nasher, it will be someone who's caught his eye and who he thinks is ready for such a promotion, not to mention the challenge."

* * *

"Alright, Cole, what's up?" Neeshka asked as they walked back up to the cell they'd found earlier.

"Oh… nothing really, Neesh," Marcus said with a rueful smile. "Just something that Nevalle said, back when I was about to face Lorne. He said that if I managed to defeat Lorne that Nasher had promised to grant me my own land and a noble title, if I'd wanted it." He looked over at the tiefling. "I've got an odd feeling part of that's going to come to pass… and soon."

Neeshka's eyes grew in size. "You don't mean…" she squeaked looking round the derelict keep. "_This_?"

"Maybe, Neesh," Marcus said with a shrug. "Who knows."

"As fascinating as this is, why don't we investigate that cell. That is why we came back up here," Sand remarked. "Ah… and look, the wards have collapsed now that Garius has been slain."

Neeshka easily dealt with the lock on the now unwarded cell door, and it swung open with a creek of its rusty hinges. Marcus stepped inside, casting a light spell as he did so, for it was very dark and he could hardly see. The harbourman could just make out the shape of a woman sitting on the ground against the back wall of the cell.

"I felt your presence before my eyes fell upon you... _Kalach-Cha. _Step forward, let me look upon you," the woman said in a sombre tone.

Now that Marcus was closer, he could see that at first glance the woman looked like a githyanki, but there was something about her that told the harbourman that she was anything but a gith. "How do you know_ that_ name? You look like a githyanki but something tells me you're not," he asked.

"Know that you are correct, _Kalach-Cha_. I am not one of those whose will echoes Gith's hatred. I have no blade to your throat, yet the githyanki would sooner kill you than speak to you. Know that is the reverse of the direction _my_ people travel. I am Zhjaeve, a githzerai," she said, looking up at the harbourman. "Know this name our enemies have draped upon you… this _Kalach-Cha_… its sound travels far, even reaching the ears of _my_ people. At first, my people thought our enemies had erred, that they did not _know_ that of which they speak." Zhjaeve looked up at Marcus for a moment or two. "But here, now, as you stand in my presence, I see the truth. I did not think it possible… but the key by which you may _know_ yourself lies within you." Again the githzerai seemed to consider what she wanted to say. "I know much of the problems that beset your people and mine… the reason behind these attacks upon your heart and home. You will have no greater ally in this than I. In exchange for my aid, it is my will I be freed… so that I might travel with you and aid you against these enemies." She looked around the cold damp cell. "This cell is abhorrent to me. It is a shackle of stone encasing me... it causes memories of the ways of the illithids to surface in my mind. I have born this indignity because I knew that it would bring you to me… and a greater truth will be _known_."

Marcus nodded. He only understood some of what Zhjaeve had said and he had the feeling it was going to take awhile to get used to her speech patterns. The harbourman extended his hand to the githzerai and helped her to her feet. "Alright, Zhjaeve, you can come with us. We're heading back to Neverwinter to see Lord Nasher," Marcus said.

"She's worse than that old loon, the sage," Neeshka muttered as they left the cell.


	22. Lady Grey

"So we are all in agreement then?" Nasher asked as he leaned back in his chair, looking around at those assembled in his office. "I'll appoint Squire Marcus as Captain of Crossroad Keep and it is his to run as he sees fit, including the establishment of any villages or settlements on the surrounding lands."

Those assembled, Judge Oleff of the Temple of Tyr, Sir Nevalle of the Neverwinter Nine, Dumal of Helm's Hold and Ophala of the Many Starred Cloaks, as well as Kari Byron and Aarin Gend, all nodded.

"I have to say, Lord Nasher, that giving the young harbourman that much responsibility is unusual. He is, after all, only a squire," Dumal said.

"True, old friend. But I have my reasons," Nasher replied with a smile. "If he does well in rebuilding the keep and managing its surrounding lands, I may make his position there more permanent, shall we say."

"You're talking about a knighthood," Dumal said, surprised. _Lady Neeshka?_ he thought to himself. _That__'__ll raise a few eyebrows._

"Yes, in time. And don't look so shocked. I'm well aware of what that'll mean for a certain tiefling in the squire's life," Nasher said, amused. "However, there are darker things afoot. It's almost like what happened over twenty years past, the first time this King of Shadows appeared from seemingly nowhere. It's almost as if history is repeating itself…"

"What do you mean?" Oleff asked.

Nasher rolled out a map of Neverwinter and the surrounding area. "Over twenty years ago there were a series of battles fought, at West Harbour in the Mere of Dead Men, at Fort Locke, Highcliff, and Crossroad Keep," he said as he pointed to each location. "Now strange events are taking place around these same locations, that's no coincidence. Whether the squire knows it or not he's right in the middle of it all," Nasher said.

"Add the fact that the squire believes that Ammon Jerro is still alive, somehow and we have a real mystery on our hands." Ophala spoke up. "I've been doing research on him. There is very little to go on, the way he wanted it, I suspect. It seems that Ammon Jerro not only had a githyanki silver sword but is a warlock of some power, which would explain the belief that the King of Shadows was a wizard who could summon demons and devils."

"Are you saying, Ophala, that it was _Ammon Jerro _who was responsible for the demons?" Nasher asked. "But what of the shadows and the undead?"

"Yes, milord, that's what I'm saying," Ophala said with a nod. "As for the shadows and undead, they were likely the work of the real King of Shadows, whoever, or more likely whatever, it is."

Nasher rubbed his chin in thought. "We will have to wait for more information to present itself. In the meantime, Kari, have Lieutenant Kana come in here a moment."

Kari nodded as she stood and opened the door to Nasher's office before she beckoned the Greycloak Lieutenant inside. Kana stepped into Nasher's office and almost froze when she saw who was present: the majority of Neverwinter's senior leadership.

"You wanted to see me, Lord Nasher?" Kana asked.

* * *

"Captain Ballard!" Marcus called as he and his party reached the Keep's main gates.

"Yes, Squire?" Ballard asked as he jogged up to the Harbourman.

"It's been good to have you and your men along on this mission," Marcus said as he shook the captain's hand.

"Pleasure was all ours, squire," Ballard replied. "When we heard Nasher was intending to send some Greycloaks to support the Cloaktower mages and yourself, we knew we had to volunteer after what you did defending Lord Tavorick."

"Just trying to do the best I can, captain," Marcus said, a little embarrassed by the praise from the war veteran. "There is something you and your men can help me with, as we have to return to Neverwinter sooner than I'd thought," he said, indicating Zhjaeve. "The farmers and other peasants that the Luskans saw fit to slaughter I want buried properly, their graves marked."

"Aye, squire, it'll be as you say," Ballard said with understanding. "I'm sure the boys and I can find somewhere suitable for a small graveyard. What about the Luskan corpses?"

"They are to buried too, but in an unmarked mass grave and as far away from this Keep as is practical," Marcus replied.

"Here, Captain, take this holy water," Casavir said as he handed a bottle to Ballard. "Sprinkle a little on each corpse, even those of the Luskans. Their spirits may rest peacefully when this is done."

"It'll be done as you say, Lord Grey, Squire," Ballard said, snapping off a salute to the paladin and Marcus. "We'll see to it that the place is decent for whoever Lord Nasher sends to rebuild this place."

"Oh? And what have you heard, Captain?" Marcus asked, intrigued, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm not one to usually gossip, I leave that to Guff and Weatherly," Ballard said with a smile. "But the talk is that there is a force of fifty Greycloaks being recruited to be stationed here. Even an officer, Lieutenant Kana, has been assigned to help whoever Nasher sends to run the place," Ballard said, rubbing his chin. "I have to say that Kana takes her job a little too seriously, but she is good at what she does. However, she can take a bit of getting used to. As to whom the old man is sending… if anyone knows ahead of time they aren't saying."

Marcus nodded. "Thank you, Captain, maybe we'll see each other again," he said, shaking Ballard's hand.

"Aye, maybe we will, gods willing," Ballard replied as he turned to call his men together.

"Thank you, Marcus, for seeing to the farmers," Shandra said as they began the long trek back to Neverwinter. "Though I'm surprised you bothered about the Luskans after what you've been through at their hands," the farm girl said.

The harbourman let out a sigh. "Shandra, just because we had to fight them doesn't mean we should sink to their level. Luskans, as unpleasant as they may be, deserve to be put to rest properly, just as much as the farmers do. The gods will see to their punishments, where appropriate, in the afterlife."

* * *

"Reverend Judge, what brings you back for another visit?" Lady Alicia Grey asked as she stood to greet Oleff as he was shown into the study by her butler, Parker. "It's nothing concerning that wayward son of mine, is it?" she asked with amusement.

Oleff smiled slightly. "I'm afraid it is, Lady Grey, but nothing serious, I assure you," he said as he sat down after Lady Grey was seated. "I've just come from a meeting with Lord Nasher and I have to say I do not think you will be seeing Casavir any time soon, I'm afraid."

Lady Grey rolled her eyes. "Getting that boy to visit home has always been difficult. What has Nasher done this time?" she asked.

"I shouldn't really say, but it will be all over Neverwinter soon enough. Nasher has appointed Squire Marcus Cole the Captain of Crossroad Keep. All that remains is to await his return from there and give him the good news," Oleff said.

"Ah, and my son, being the man he is, will end up there as well," Lady Grey said with understanding. "He could never leave a job half finished, much like his father in that respect and what makes him such a good paladin. Though I hardly ever see him as a result," she said, a little disappointed by the fact.

"True enough," Oleff said. "Casavir will want to stay at Marcus's side and give him help and guidance running the Keep, should he ask for it. The young harbourman will make a fine leader from what I've seen and heard."

Alicia smiled. "And we cannot forget the squire's lady, Neeshka. For my son, knowingly or not, will have developed an interest in seeing where their relationship ends up."

Oleff smiled. "They make for a striking couple, it has to be said. It was obvious to me early on that they cared about each other very much. An unlikely match if there ever was, but one Tyr seems to think will work." he said thoughtfully. "Though Casavir seems to have a lady of his own."

Lady Grey raised her eyebrows. "My son has a lady, does he? Do you know anything about her?" she asked, intrigued.

"Very little, I'm afraid," Oleff replied. "Her name is Katriona and she acted as his sergeant in Old Owl Well. She stayed on with Sir Callum for a time when Casavir returned to Neverwinter in the squire's company. However, since then she too has come to Neverwinter and has joined the squire's band. I understand that Katriona is currently in Castle Never awaiting the return of the squire and Casavir from Crossroad Keep. She returned, acting as an escort for the sage Aldanon," Oleff said as he stood up to leave.

"Well, thank you, Reverend Judge, for stopping by and telling me. It seems I have some dinner party preparations to make," Alicia said with a smile as she showed Oleff out.

After seeing the Reverend Judge out, Alicia returned to the study to write out an official dinner invitation to her son and the people who he was currently helping. Lady Grey stood, satisfied with her hand-written summons and walked to the door of the study. "Parker?" she called.

A few moments later and the form of the Greys' ever-faithful butler, Parker appeared. "Yes, milady?" he asked in his even, calm voice.

"Parker, I want you to take this to the _Sunken Flagon_ and see to it that my son receives it," Lady Grey said, as she handed him the dinner invitation.

"As milady wishes," Parker said. "How many will we be having for dinner?" he asked.

"Four. My son and his prospective lady, Katriona, and the young squire Marcus Cole and his lady, Neeshka," Lady Grey replied.

"Very well, milady," Parker hesitated for a second. "I assume milady knows that the squire's lady is a tiefling?' he asked.

At this Lady Grey smiled. "Yes, Parker. I'm well aware of Neeshka's heritage, as I think is all of Neverwinter by now. However, my son is an _extremely _good judge of character, so I do not have any misgivings…" she paused and made a face, "… unlike that idiot Lord Temar. Now… off to the Sunken Flagon with you, Parker."

"Yes milady," Parker said with a smile as he turned to leave.

"Just a moment, Parker, I have a much better idea," Lady Grey said, her eyes sparkling. "Oleff told me that Katriona is currently at Castle Never… Which means there's a good chance that Casavir and the squire will return there too…" Alicia smiled. "Parker, bring the carriage round, we're going to visit Nasher… and wait for my son."

"Very well, milady. I'll inform the coachman, Niles," Parker said with an even bigger smile, as he had a good idea of what was going on inside his mistress's head.

* * *

"That's got to be the old loon," Neeshka said as she, Marcus and the rest of their party, including Zhjaeve, walked along the great hall of Castle Never toward the throne room.

"Yeah, and by the sounds of it, he's delivering quite the lecture on the origins of our new _friend_ here," Shandra said, sounding suspicious of the githzerai.

Marcus merely rolled his eyes at the farm girl's comment. As he entered the throne room, he could see Lord Nasher sitting on his throne with Sir Nevalle at his right side as always. Before them was Katriona, who smiled brilliantly on seeing Casavir, and next to her was Aldanon.

"Very well, let us set aside the broader metaphor of the stone, and narrow our attention to the fact that it has been cleft in two which, while not a fact, is a smaller metaphor than the first. You see, at first glance, the two halves both appear as separate stones, but they were both once one stone… yet not. Do you follow?" Aldanon asked.

Nasher looked and sounded relieved when he saw that Marcus had entered the throne room. "Ah, Squire, your timing couldn't have been better. I've been speaking to the sage Aldanon concerning the other prisoner of Garius, who I see is with you," Nasher said, motioning to Zhjaeve. "She is clearly not of Neverwinter or Luskan… or even perhaps this plane of existence. I was hoping you might be able to help us out concerning her identity… or her intentions. Aldanon has a theory, but I'm afraid..."

"If you all would simply_ listen!_ The comparison to a rock, a big rock, is a simple one, almost perfect," Aldanon said impatiently. "This woman... it seems that she is of the same stone as the githyanki, but yet she is not. You see, both were once one people, at one time, even though time is a very difficult thing to measure depending on the Plane, and that's not counting time in the Astral Plane or on..."

Nevalle let out a sigh. "Forgive me, Aldanon, is this woman a threat or not?" he asked as he motioned toward Zhjaeve.

"Oh, I don't know _that_," Aldanon said with a shrug. "I _do_ know that the githzerai and the githyanki have been in a state of war for millennia. It is common knowledge."

"Of course," Nevalle said with a sigh. "An oversight on my part."

"So I should think if your young squire here..." the sage turned to face Marcus, "…well met again, by the way, you seem to be everywhere..." he said before turning back to Nevalle,"…is hunted by the githyanki, then the githzerai, and _this _githzerai in particular, would be allies, by default…. But I could be mistaken," Aldanon said, shrugging. "I suppose we could see if she tries to kill any of us, but that test has numerous procedural flaws in its execution... if you will pardon the semantics." He continued slowly. "She seemed reasonable enough when we spoke together in Crossroad Keep, but there was a foot of stone between us, which is notoriously hard for a blade to cut through to kill someone on the other side. And speaking of Crossroad Keep, I am rather anxious to return there… so if you would all excuse me, I will set out there at once to see if we can dig anything out of the library there." With that the old sage turned and walked out.

"You fought bravely, squire, and we took them almost completely by surprise," Nevalle said, now that Aldanon had left. "You and your companions are to be commende for your efforts. But perhaps, more importantly you have found what may be the key to taking this battle to our enemies."

"In freeing me from Garius, _know_ you have gained more than you ever would have torn from the lips and thoughts of our enemies," Zhjaeve said.

"Then speak. Aldanon does not think you are allied with these enemies... these githyanki. And his word carries weight within this court," Nasher said.

"Then _know_ the trade between us is this... let my path become that of the _Kalach-Cha_. In return, I will grant you the_ knowing_ of this threat… and all the darkness its shadow casts." Zhjaeve turned to Marcus. "I seek to _know_ this plane, this world that I am to help you save… and speak honestly to it, so that it might hear what strikes at its heart. And that means that I must see your lands, what you would spill blood for... and what you have spilled blood for."

Nevalle looked to Nasher who gave a small nod. "Then I know of just the place where you can see what we fight for. Make your way back to Crossroad Keep, as soon as you are able, Squire. I shall meet you there," Nevalle said as he left the throne room.

Marcus followed the departure of Nevalle for a few moments before turning back to Lord Nasher, the question obvious on the harbourman's face. Nasher smiled. "You've earned it, squire. You and your companions have worked hard to root out what threatens Neverwinter and its surrounding lands. But darker times loom, and you will need a more permanent base of operations, and I can think of no place better nor anyone better than you to rebuild Crossroad Keep."

Marcus did his best not to look overwhelmed. "I'll do my best, milord," he said with a bow before turning to leave the throne room with his companions following.

* * *

Lady Grey was waiting a short distance from the throne room as she saw her son, Casavir leaving with Marcus and his friends. Alicia smiled; this was going to embarrass the paladin a little, but it would be entertaining.

"Casavir Nasher Grey! Where do you think you're going?" Lady Grey said in a soft but firm commanding voice. Her lady in waiting, Mira, tried to stifle a giggle at the paladin's reaction.

Casavir had stopped dead in his tracks. In fact, Marcus' entire party had.

"Mother?" the paladin asked, looking surprised and feeling very self-aware. "What brings you to Castle Never?"

"I would have thought that was obvious," Alicia said as she walked up to the small group. "You, my son, are the reason I'm here. It seems I'm just in time to see you before you vanish again from Neverwinter for months, if not years," she said, her eyes sparkling.

"So… Casavir, this is your mother?" Neeshka asked casually.

"Yes, Neeshka, in that you are correct," Casavir replied stiffly.

Lady Grey rolled her eyes. "Really, Casavir, where are your manners?" she asked. "I think that your tiefling companion was wanting you to introduce us?"

"Oh yes, of course. Sorry, mother," the paladin said, shaking himself as he turned to introduce everyone. "May I introduce you to my travelling companions, Marcus, Neeshka, Khelgar, Elanee, Shandra, Sand, Katriona and Zhjaeve." As Casavir said their names, each member of the party nodded their heads. "Everyone, this is my mother, Lady Alicia Grey, and with her is her lady in waiting, Mira," Casavir said.

"Pleased to meet you, milady," Marcus said with a slight bow. He was getting used to this nobility thing, slowly.

"Ah, so you are the young squire, Marcus Cole?" Lady Grey said and she surprised the harbourman by taking his hand and shaking it. "It seems I have you to thank for making sure that my son didn't do anything_ too_ outrageous in Old Owl Well."

"I'm not sure about that, milady, I think we helped each other more than anything," Marcus replied, looking awkward.

Alicia just smiled as she turned to face Neeshka. "And I know who you are, my dear, even without my son's introduction. The whole city does, I'd wager. You are Neeshka, the squire's lady."

The tiefling turned pink. "I guess I am, milady," Neeshka said, embarrassed. This was a new experience. "I just think of myself as the harbour boy's girlfriend, you know?"

Lady Grey nodded but it was clear that she was just dying to ask the tiefling what she'd meant. "And you, dear, are Katriona, the woman my son seems to have taken a liking to?" Alicia asked.

"Mother!" Casavir exclaimed, mortified.

"Casavir, when will you learn that you cannot keep _anything_ from me?" Lady Grey asked. There was some chuckling from everyone.

"I am, milady," Katriona said, her head held high. "I've found Casavir to be… intriguing from the moment I met him in Old Owl Well."

"I'm sure you did, my dear," Lady Grey said with amusement. Casavir, for his part, was doing his best not to squirm. "Now, Casavir, before you disappear on me again, you are coming home for dinner and I will not take no for answer. In fact everyone here is invited to come, if they wish."

"We'd be honoured, Lady Grey," Marcus said before Casvair could try and get out of it. "When should we arrive?"

"I expect you at my mansion at six, dinner will be at seven," Alicia replied.

"We will endeavor to be on time, milady," Marcus said with a small bow, before he led everyone out of Castle Never.

Lady Grey watched them leave, deep in thought. "What is it, milady?" Mira asked.

"The wood elf, Elanee. I seem to recall something about her and Sir Darmon at Nasher's ball," Alicia said as she turned to a nearby palace guard. "Guard, do you know where I could find Sir Darmon?"

* * *

"I have to say, your mother is an interesting lady, Casavir," Marcus said as they entered the Sunken Flagon. The harbourman found himself mildly jealous of the paladin; Casavir had had both parents in his life.

Casavir couldn't help but smile. "That's true. Once you've met my mother, you never quite forget her," he said. "She was often the anchor of our family. When I was doing my early paladin training, I always looked forward to returning home."

"But now, you're simply too busy to return home as often as you know you should?" Katriona asked. "Seems to me she's made sure you can go home, tonight."

"Yes, Katriona, you are right on both counts," Casavir said. "I suspect my mother will want to know all about you, come tonight. Most likely she will question you over dinner. Do not be at all surprised if you find yourself seated near to her," the paladin warned.

Katriona blushed a little. "I don't know if I'm ready for that."

"Aw, come on Kat," Neeshka said. "You won't be the only one getting quizzed. Me and the harbour boy are in the firing line too, you know."

Marcus chuckled. "I suspect we all will be at some point tonight. Let's just hope Khelgar doesn't get_ too_ drunk," he said, giving an exaggerated shudder. "We'd _never_ live that down."

"Watch yourself, lad!" the dwarf warned good naturedly. "I'm not that bad when I'm drunk!"

"Want to put some money where your mouth is, barrel-house?" Neeshka asked playfully.

"Now, children, behave," Elanee said, amused at the banter between her friends.

Zhjaeve merely watched as she had done since becoming a part of the harbourman's group. The githzerai had said very little to anyone and it seemed that she was content for the time being at least to observe.

* * *

"So, you're not going to be here much longer, lad?" Duncan asked, a little sad. He'd miss his kin and his friends, and though the half-elf was loath to admit it, he'd miss Neeshka too. Duncan would really miss Shandra, however.

"No, in the next few days we'll be headed to Crossroad Keep. Lord Nasher has given me the task, heh…_ mission_, more like, to rebuild the place," Marcus said as he sat at the bar. _It sounds easy, rebuild the keep. So why do I have the feeling I'm in so far over my head I can't see daylight anymore?_ the harbourman thought.

"Well, I'm going to miss the lot of you," Duncan said.

"Duncan, I didn't know you cared," Bishop flipped from the other end of the bar.

"Oh _you_ I won't miss, I assure you, Bishop," the innkeeper replied.

"You wound me, Duncan, and here I was, thinking you kept me around because you _like_ me," the ranger said before he slunk off to his usual table.

"Good, now that he's gone, there was something I want to ask you, Duncan," Marcus said "There's an inn at the Keep that the Luskans were using as a barracks. It looked to be mostly in one piece, but gods only know what the inside is like. I was wondering if you'd like to come and run it for me."

Duncan just stood there for a few moments, shocked. "I'd really like to, lad, but I've got the _Flagon_ to run," he said at last.

"Well, there is some truth to that, I guess," Marcus admitted. "You may as well leave the place to Sal, he'd be able to keep the place going." The harbourman grinned. "And you'd still get to see Shandra, you know."

Duncan looked over at Sal, who was smiling. "Sounds like an opportunity to me, Duncan. You may as well take it," the bartender said.

"Alright, lad, you've got yourself an innkeeper," Duncan said with a grin.

"And here was I, thinking that I'd get some peace and quiet from your dulcet tones, Duncan," Sand remarked dryly.

Marcus chuckled at the incredulous look on the innkeeper's face. "Oh come on, Duncan, Sand was just teasing."

"Perhaps," the moon elf said. "However, Marcus, it occurs to me that I need to speak to both you and Neeshka about your studies. Come to my shop and we'll talk more there," the wizard said before he departed the inn.

* * *

"What's this about our studies, Sand?" Marcus asked as he and Neeshka entered the wizard's shop to find the moon elf busy sorting through some tomes.

"Don't look so worried, Marcus," Sand said, looking up from the books in front of him. "The two of you have done very well with mastering the basics of arcane magic. However, I feel we must talk about where you plan on taking your new-found abilities. After all, neither of you are pure casters like myself, which isn't a bad thing."

"Somehow, Sand, I'm sensing a 'But' here," Neeshka said.

The wizard smiled. "Yes there is, my dear... But the both of you would be well advised to consider focusing your studies on only a limited number of spells, at least to start with, and also keep in mind those that would be of benefit to your current skill sets." Sand paused a moment. "Neeshka, I could see you benefiting from the invisibility line of spells, and due to your heritage, you have an affinity for fire based spells."

"So what do you have in mind, then, Sand?" Marcus asked.

"This is why I called you here. I want the both of you to look through these tomes and see what spells you think would benefit you the most," Sand replied. "Then we can go over the lists in greater detail." The wizard tapped his chin in thought. "I have to say, the two of you have the ability to be more dangerous than myself in the right situation. If I run out of spells, I'm in a nasty spot of bother, whereas the two of you, not being totally dependent on magic, would fare much better and give your opponents a nasty surprise as you beat them into submission the old fashioned way, with your weapons." The moon elf grinned. "Come, we have the entire afternoon before we have to visit Lady Grey. Let's make the most of it, shall we?"

* * *

The Grey family mansion was not nearly as large as some of the others that surrounded it, like that of Lord Tavorick, Marcus decided as they walked along its driveway. There was something that made the home stand out, though. It was quietly understated in its design, built more for practicality than for show. The materials used, however, were of top quality and no doubt very expensive. Marcus smiled to himself as he realised what made the Grey family home stand out, which was the key word, _home_. The Greys had built their mansion to be a home first and a show piece second.

The harbourman rang the doorbell, and a few moments later the large solid oak front door swung open to reveal the Grey's butler, Parker, who nodded to Marcus, but then turned to Casavir. "Milord, it's good to see you home. You've been away for far too long," he said.

"It's good to be home, Parker. I know I do not get home as often as I should. One day that will change," Casvair replied with a half smile.

"Milady is awaiting you in the living room, if you would all follow me, please," Parker said.

* * *

As Parker had said, Lady Grey was indeed waiting for them in the living room but so was Sir Darmon, which surprised everyone, most of all Elanee.

"Milady Elanee, it is a pleasure to see you again," the knight said as he took the wood elf's hand and kissed it gently.

Elanee turned a deep shade of copper. "I… I thank you, Sir Darmon," she stammered. "I was not expecting you to be here." The druid was flustered.

"I was not expecting to be here, either," Sir Darmon said with a charming smile. "But when Lady Grey invited me, saying that the squire was coming for dinner and that he'd be bringing his companions, I could hardly refuse the chance to see you again."

"Oh my…" was all Elanee could say.

"My mother is up to her usual tricks, it seems," Casavir observed as they all sat down.

"And what's wrong with that?" Lady Grey asked. "If the young people today need a bit of a nudge in the right direction, I'm more than happy to do it." The not so hidden meaning of Alicia's words was not lost on her son or Katriona. "However, it pleases me that there are some young people that can make up their own minds," Lady Grey said as she looked toward Marcus and Neeshka, who both turned slightly pink. "Now, Neeshka dear, why did you call Marcus 'harbour boy' earlier today?"

"Marcus comes from West Harbour, and they're commonly called harbourmen, so I took to calling him harbour boy instead, milady," Neeshka explained, feeling very self conscious.

"Ah, and I think it suits him too," Lady Grey said. "Now, before we go any further, you may all call me Alicia if you like. You're in my home and are my guests. No need for this milady business all the time," Lady Grey explained. "The one thing I'd like to know, Marcus, if you'd indulge an older lady, is just how did you meet Neeshka?" Alicia asked. "I've heard the numerous tales that have been going round about the two of you, and I'd like to know the truth."

"I don't see any reason why not, it's not really a secret," Marcus said. "Khelgar and I were heading to Fort Locke and as we got to the trail that leads up to it we encountered two Fort Locke soldiers who had Neeshka cornered and were, I'm sure, about to put her to the sword. Something I wouldn't allow to happen, as Neeshka hadn't done anything wrong from what I could tell," the harbourman explained, taking the tiefling's hand. "Needless to say, a fight soon broke out, and while Khelgar and I dealt with the two thugs, Neeshka was knocked out cold. So we hung round till she came to."

"Aye, lad. But don't forget to add that I was all for leaving her there, on the roadside," Khelgar said, slightly ashamed. "That would have been wrong, I know that now. Can you forgive a short sighted Ironfist, lass?" he said to Neeshka.

"I forgave you long ago, barrel-house," Neeshka said softly. Khelgar smiled broadly.

There was a soft cough from the doorway of the living room. "Dinner is ready to be served, milady," Parker said.


	23. A Spymaster's first mission

"Why do you look so distracted, Marcus?" Neeshka asked as they walked down the hall towards the _Sunken Flagon's_ common room.

Marcus sighed. "Too much on my mind, Neesh. We haven't even returned to Crossroad Keep yet, and already I'm trying to think of what in the hells I'm meant to do with the place."

"You think too much, Cole. That's your problem," Neeshka replied. "I'm sure it'll fall into place once we get there."

"I suppose so, Neesh, but what am I going to think about instead of the Keep?" the harbourman asked.

"Oh, I'm sure I can think of a few things that should get your mind off the keep, for a little while, anyway," the tiefling purred seductively.

Marcus couldn't help but laugh. "Trust you to think of _that_," he said. "Not that I mind so much, but I think we've exhausted most of the possibilities."

Neeshka grinned. "Don't know about that, harbour boy, I can think of a few things we haven't tried yet," she said, her eyes shining. "Seriously though, there's a time and place for that. And thinking about it is making me hungry, on account of all the energy we'd use up."

Marcus laughed and gave his tiefling a hug.

* * *

Duncan eyed the ranger carefully. "Did I hear you correctly, Bishop?" he asked. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah, your ears haven't gone faulty, Duncan," Bishop replied. "My debt to you is repaid, your kin has more than enough willing fools to help him, and anyway I don't want to be tied down following Nasher's orders," the ranger said. "Something I don't think your kin's realised yet, or if he has, it doesn't bother him, which I say makes him a bigger fool than you."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Bishop, you're going to be missed," Marcus said sarcastically. "You're just a bright ray of sunshine."

The ranger turned to face the harbourman. "Didn't you know? Sunshine is my middle name," he shot back.

Marcus chuckled. "That explains everything, now doesn't it? So you're off back to Port Llast to harass Malin and any Luskans who get too close to the border, huh?"

Bishop shrugged. "Yeah, something like that, oh great leader. I told you I was never one for following orders, and since Nasher has given you command of that rock pile he calls a keep, you'll be doing plenty of that, so that's my cue to leave."

"Fair enough, Bishop. You were always free to leave if you wanted, once we had Shandra back," Marcus replied. "It's been... interesting knowing you. Have a safe trip to wherever it is you're going, and try not to get shot by too many Luskans," he said, extending his hand to the ranger.

Bishop looked surprised for a moment before he took the harbourman's hand and shook it. "Yeah, whatever, it hasn't been dull in your company, that's for certain, but I'm... I'm best on my own."

"Hey, Bishop, I never did replace that longbow, so um, here's some gold for a new one," Neeshka said as she passed the ranger a small bag.

Bishop grinned as he took the offered gold. "Don't look now, oh great leader, but I think the she-devil is growing a conscience, and that's got to be a bad thing," he said sarcastically.

Neeshka and Marcus just shook their heads as Bishop walked out of the inn.

* * *

Sir Darmon entered the inn a few moments after Bishop had left. He walked over to where Neeshka and Marcus were seated with their friends, having breakfast.

"Good morning, everyone, sorry for the intrusion," Darmon said.

"You're not intruding, Darmon my friend," Marcus replied. "However I suspect you're here on official business, and not here just to see El."

"Marcus!" the wood elf cried, blushing.

Darmon chuckled. "You're right on both counts, Marcus, as I could never refuse the chance to see the Lady Elanee." At this, the druid turned an even deeper shade of copper, much to the amusement of her friends. "I know you have much commanding your attention, with your move to Crossroad Keep. However, there is a matter that Lord Nasher wishes for Neeshka to deal with as her first job, if you like, as his spymaster," the knight explained.

The tiefling's eyes went wide at this. "Um, okay, hope I'm up to this, after all," she murmured.

"Come on, sweetheart, I'm sure you will be," Marcus reassured her. "Kari and by extension Nasher wouldn't have asked if they didn't think you could do the job."

"You should be alright, Neeshka, as the job is fairly simple," Darmon said. "The new Luskan ambassador has made it quite clear that Luskan had no dealings with the agents you've faced. This may be true as it's likely they were working for Black Garius. That doesn't alter the fact that some are still present in Neverwinter, or so we believe." Darmon sat down, as this was going to take a while. "The Nine have had our eye on a local tailor, Larim, for some time now. We believe he's a Luskan agent, but a low-level one. With the Arcane Brotherhood cast out of the city, we had expected Larim to leave as well. However, he was observed entering the manor of Lord Temar, in the Blacklake District."

Neeshka frowned. "Lord Temar, isn't he the idiot who said that I should have been killed at birth?" she asked angrily. She hadn't forgotten that little incident.

Darmon nodded. "Yes, the same, one reason I thought you'd find this job appealing, Neeshka. Temar has been at odds with Lord Nasher for some time. Now it appears he has ties with Luskan which, if true, is a matter of grave concern," he said. "Your orders are simple, Neeshka. Nasher wants you to find out what's going on. You are to enter Temar's estate, preferably undetected, and see what information you can uncover."

"Surely it would be easier for Marcus, as a member of the nobility in Nasher's service, to enter Temar's manor and detain Larim for questioning?" Casavir spoke up.

Darmon smiled. "That's true but Nasher decided against that. He felt that given Temar's... reaction to Neeshka's appointment as spymaster, there may be more to this than there seems." The knight looked the tiefling in the eyes. "Neeshka, as Nasher's spymaster, you have quite a bit of freedom when dealing with situations when on a mission. However, if you are forced into a situation where you must act, Lord Nasher would like it if Larim and Temar are captured alive. If they die, any information they have dies with them."

Neeshka leaned back in her chair, thinking. "Guess we'd better go see Sand, harbour boy, and get our spells in order. Got a feeling we're going to need them," she said.

"That's not a bad idea, but I thought this was your show, not mine," Marcus replied.

"Hey, I'm good at sneaking, you're good at fighting. I'd feel better if you're there, just in case," Neeshka said.

Darmon grinned. "Neeshka is free to run the mission as she wishes. If she feels she might need extra muscle, that's up to her. Having a close group of friends to call on never hurt either."

"In that case, your wish is my command, Lady Neeshka, master of spies," Marcus said in an exaggeratedly formal tone.

Everyone laughed as Neeshka turned pink. "Oh, behave you!" she scolded the harbourman.

* * *

Axle looked across his desk at the two men seated before him. "So you have some news for me, Edmond?" he asked the knight.

"Yes, to no one's real surprise, Nasher has given your friend Marcus Cole command of the derelict Crossroad Keep. Why, I have no idea." Edmond paused a moment. "You already know about the tiefling's appointment as spymaster. That ruffled a few feathers, I can tell you."

Axle chuckled. "Yes, so I've heard. Lord Temar is in over his head. I almost feel sorry for the man, but truthfully, I don't as he threatens the stability of this city." The crime boss grinned. "Neeshka is going to enjoy her new job, I think."

"You don't seem terribly worried about her making spymaster," the other man, Uncus Riverdeller, remarked.

"That's because I'm not, Uncus. My affairs should not affect the stability or security of Neverwinter, so therefore my operations should not warrant investigation from the Nine or Nasher's master of spies." Axle frowned. "However, the way Moire has been acting anything is possible, which is where you come in, Uncus. You're going to Crossroad Keep to be my eyes and ears," the crime boss said. "Neeshka knows who you are and who you work for. After all, you've handled some of her... merchandise in the past, so don't try to bluff her or Cole. Marcus may be more lawful than I'd like, but the man isn't stupid. Give him a reason to retain your services. Most important of all, don't interfere with the running of the keep unless I say so. Do I make myself clear?"

Uncus nodded. "Yes, Axle, as crystal. I'll think of something."

"Good, anything else you needed to tell me?" the crime boss asked both men.

"There is one other thing you should know if you don't already," Sir Edmond said. "The old scoundrel Vengaul Bloodsail is back, and he's not at all happy about the shape of the docks district."

"He's been busy gaining support and being quite successful. He's a charismatic bastard," Uncus added. "You can imagine how Moire has taken the news. She's become even more unstable and vicious."

"Vengaul practically _was_ the docks before the plague and the war," Edmond remarked. "I've also heard a whisper that he may be Marcus Cole's father. Not sure if I believe it myself, but you never know."

Axle leaned back in his chair and sighed. "It's looking more and more like I'll have to cut Moire loose. She's becoming too much of a liability."

* * *

Sand looked up as the harbourman and his tiefling lover walked into his shop. "Ah, my favourite students," the moon elf greeted them. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" The wizard closed the tome he had been reading, and a puff of dust rose up.

"We wanted to talk to you about our spell books," Marcus began hesitantly. "I've been thinking that maybe I should be concentrating on spells that can protect me, and my allies. Maybe some offensive spells, too, but nothing too lethal. I don't want to explode half of Faerûn." The harbourman shrugged. "I was hoping you might be able to suggest some spells. Also, Neesh has her first mission for Lord Nasher."

"I think I'm going to need some sneaky spells," Neeshka said. "If I'm going to be Nasher's spymaster, I want to be able to move around without been seen or heard. It might also come in handy if I can put people to sleep, you know?" The tiefling looked at the moon elf, her expression earnest. "I can't just go around slitting throats anymore, can I?"

Sand leaned back against his workbench, his arms folded across his chest, a smile growing on his face. "No, that won't do for a spymaster, would it?" the moon elf remarked. "It so happens that I've been thinking about what spells would suit you both," he continued, reaching for a stack of scrolls. "Given your natural talents as a thief, Neeshka, may I suggest invisibility and see invisibility to start, as well as sleep and deep slumber? These will allow you to move about fairly easily and to incapacitate any guards or other resistance you may encounter," the wizard explained. "Also, given your heritage, you have a natural affinity for fire based spells. Combat cannot always be avoided and a little edge helps. You've already mastered fire orbs so I suggest blades of fire, to enchant your melee weapons," Sand said.

Neeshka took the offered scrolls and smiled. "Thanks, Sand, these sound just like what I'm going to need," the tiefling said as she went away to study them.

The moon elf now turned his attention to the harbourman. "Now you, Marcus, my boy. You are a warrior and leader so I was thinking spells like Stoneskin and Spiderskin would be useful. You've already mastered ghostly visage." Sand considered his next words carefully "What I also suggest is that you learn dispel magic and spell breach, to strip the magical protections from enemy spell casters. They would not expect an armoured warrior to strip their defences, and then run them through with something sharp and pointy." The wizard had a slightly evil smile as he said this.

"Getting back at the Hosttower, are we?" Marcus asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, I suppose I am, a little," Sand admitted. "But enemy spell casters can be a major problem as our encounter with Black Garius proved. However, we had plenty of support from the Cloaktower mages. That will not always be the case," the moon elf explained. "Also, you may want to consider learning a few ice and cold based spells to counter Neeshka's reliance on fire spells. But that's something to consider for later." At the harbourman's curious expression, Sand went on. "The two of you are a team. I would go as far as to say that you're almost inseparable, and to that end, your spells should complement Neeshka's."

Marcus nodded as he took his collection of scrolls from the moon elf. "Thanks, Sand, you've given me plenty to think about."

The wizard inclined his head. "That's part of the job description, my boy," he said with a smile_. I haven't had this much fun in decades,_ Sand thought to himself.

* * *

"Well, ready when you are sweetheart," Marcus said as he and Neeshka prepared to enter Lord Temar's estate. They'd spent most of the day either practising their new spells or discretely observing Temar's residence so Neeshka could learn the guard patrol patterns. However, it was almost time for the evening guard change, which would mean a lot of movement and open doors.

Marcus felt a bit strange, dressed as he was in a set of leather armour instead of his usual full plate. Even Neeshka had forgone her chain armour for a set of leathers. The fact was leather armour made much less noise. Being unheard was just as important as being unseen.

"Okay, this is where I cast invisibility on us as we make like the wind," the tiefling said as she recited the spell, rendering both her and Marcus invisible. They then both made their way inside the estate, the guards none the wiser.

Marcus and Neeshka made their way carefully through Temar's estate, looking for anything that might tell them what was going on. What they found was a meeting taking place between Larim, Lord Temar and another noble.

"I think the Nine suspect Larim of being a spy for the Arcane Brotherhood," the unknown noble told Temar, unaware he had a bigger audience than he thought.

Temar snorted. "Larim, a Luskan spy? I find that rather amusing, actually. It is true that he has worked closely with the Brotherhood, but ultimately, he answers to me. Luskan and I just happen to share the same goal of getting rid of Nasher."

"What do you have against Nasher, anyway?" the noble asked.

"He's an old incompetent fool. Under his rule, the city's power and prosperity have fallen to new lows. Once he's gone, I'll restore Neverwinter to its former glory," Temar stated arrogantly.

_Old incompetent fool, my tail_, Neeshka fumed. _You seem to have forgotten about the war and the plague,_ she thought angrily as she prepared to hit the three men with a deep slumber spell.

"You're dumber than I thought if you think Luskan would just stop at getting rid of Nasher," Neeshka said, revealing her presence to her captive audience, as she'd locked the doors to the meeting room. "They want the city."

Temar looked shocked, as did his two companions. "You demonic bitch, you won't leave here to report to Nasher!" he yelled as he stood up, drawing a rapier from his belt. The rapier was sent flying across the room as Marcus revealed himself, knocking the weapon out of the lord's hand.

"Not so fast, _Lord Temar_," the harbourman said, making it sound more of an insult rather than a title. "Lord Nasher wants words with you. The three of you will be getting a nice dungeon with a view," he said, as Neeshka cast her sleep spell that sent the three men into dream land.

"Now what, harbour boy?" the tiefling asked. "No way we can sneak out with those three traitorous bastards."

"We don't need to. You go sneak back out and return with Sir Darmon and a squad of palace guards, while I make sure these three don't go anywhere. Temar's guards wouldn't dare challenge a member of the Nine."

"Alright, I'm not keen on leaving you alone here, but we don't have that much of a choice," Neeshka replied, a little worried.

"I'll be fine, sweetheart, don't worry," Marcus said, giving her a quick kiss. "Now, the sooner you go, the sooner Darmon can lock them up."

The tiefling nodded before she made herself invisible again and sneaked out of the mansion.

* * *

Marcus guessed about half an hour passed before he heard a commotion coming from down stairs. Before too long, he heard a door unlock and then open to reveal Sir Darmon and Neeshka on the other side, as well as some palace guards.

"I see you have three packages for me, squire?" Darmon asked with a straight face.

"Indeed I do," Marcus said with a grin.

Darmon now smiled. "Well done, both of you. Lord Nasher will be most pleased." He glanced at Temar, who was still asleep. "He'll have much explaining to do. I doubt if he'll get out of it, and even if he does, his estate here in Blacklake and what lands he owns will most likely be forfeit." The knight looked over at Marcus. "Something to keep in mind, squire, should you hear about it."

Temar got a very rude awaking as he was dragged from his estate, still half asleep, by Sir Darmon and his men.

* * *

"Did Sir Darmon just offer you Temar's estate, harbour boy?" Neeshka asked as they walked back to the Sunken Flagon to get a good night's sleep before the journey to Crossroad Keep.

"I'm not sure, Neesh, but that's what it sounded like to me, too," Marcus replied.


	24. Captain of the Keep

"It's seen better days... and will again," Nevalle said with a smile as he greeted Marcus and his companions at the gates of Crossroad Keep. "This keep was destroyed during the war with the King of Shadows, over twenty-five years ago. It was a dark time for Neverwinter, but we persevered, as you did when you removed Garius."

"It looks like the Keep is being rebuilt," Marcus observed as they walked into the outer courtyard, giving the knight a questioning look.

"You're right, it is," Nevalle replied. "You're back here, Marcus. For as you can see, Lord Nasher has a new task for you," he said, turning to face Zhjaeve. "And perhaps our... guest can see what it is you'll be fighting for in the coming months." The knight waved his hand around the courtyard. "These people you see around you, they are now _yours_ to command as you see fit. You are their Captain in Neverwinter's service. Make this Keep ready for war, gather troops to your banner, and be prepared to strike when this enemy reveals itself." Nevalle turned to a woman wearing the Greycloak's uniform, who looked to Marcus as if her parents came from Kara-Tur or some other distant part of Faerûn. "To help you manage the keep, Lord Nasher has assigned you an officer, Lieutenant Kana. And Master Veedle has been contracted to help you rebuild the Keep and the surrounding area," Nevalle said, indicating a man who was busy talking to some workers, before he turned back to Marcus. "_You_ are the master of this keep now… you have earned it through service and blood, and you have earned my trust... and that of Lord Nasher. This is _your _land. Defend it, for the sake of_ your_ people, and the sake of Neverwinter," Nevalle said. "Now I must return to Lord Nasher."

Marcus looked as though he'd just been stunned with a mace, for he simply watched the Captain of the Nine leave without saying a word, his eyes unblinking. In truth, the harbourman was trying to come to terms with what the knight had told him. Lord Nasher's words hadn't prepared Marcus for this. In fact, nothing could have prepared the harbourman for the task that now lay ahead of him as he stood in the courtyard of the once derelict keep.

"Just what in the Nine Hells am I meant to do now?" Marcus asked softly, realising the enormity of what he'd been asked to do.

"You're not alone, harbour boy. I'm here," Neeshka whispered, taking her lover's hand and leaning her head on his shoulder. "So are barrel house, the tree worshiper, Casbear, Sand, the farm girl. Even the githzerai. We'll help you figure this keep running thing out," she vowed.

Marcus turned his head towards Neeshka, and as he did so, the world around him seemed to shift and blur. Now he saw the keep, completely rebuilt, bustling with activity. Neeshka looked a few years older and was holding a small bundle in her arms, smiling happily, a diamond ring on her finger glittering in the sunlight. The harbourman was about to speak when his vision blurred again, and he was looking into his lover's expressive red eyes. The harbourman sucked in a breath as he realised what he'd seen and what it meant. A moment of clarity, a vision of a future for himself and Neeshka. _Get a grip, Cole,_ he told himself.

"Lieutenant Kana reporting for duty, Captain. Lord Nasher has given you a great honour," Kana said as she saluted the harbourman with as much formality as she could muster. Truth to tell, she wasn't sure what to make of this assignment.

"So why do I feel like I'm trying to swim the Neverwinter River in full armour?" Marcus replied dryly, turning to face Kana.

"It is a great responsibility, Captain," Kana said. "But rebuilding these grounds will be a considerable undertaking."

"And one I look forward to. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Captain," the stonemason said as he walked over. "I am Master Veedle. I won't lie to you. This keep is in a _sad_ state of repair. We will need all the resources you can bring to bear to fix her up." Veedle seemed to stand a little taller as he spoke. "With the help of my crew, we can turn this place into a_ true_ masterpiece of engineering."

"Master Veedle is excellent at his craft and capable of what he claims," Kana said with some reluctance. "If somewhat eccentric," she muttered.

Veedle didn't even seem to notice. "I went ahead and inspected the grounds… There is_ much_ work that needs to be done. The courtyard itself is in a shambles… but that can be fixed quickly. Strong backs and long hours and you'll soon see the shape of the Keep. And… well… what's underneath won't be pretty. But before long we'll have the Keep cleared out for you." Veedle turned and started to walk away, talking as he did so. "We're embarking on a true adventure! Men, set the camp over there. I'll draw up plans for the work."

Kana shook her head. "There are some things I need to see to, Captain. Come speak to me within the Keep when you've had a chance to get settled in," she said, as she saluted and walked up the rise towards the keep.

"Don't think I'm going to get used to people calling you Captain, harbour boy," Neeshka said quietly. "Squire was bad enough."

"Heh, how do you think _I_ feel, sweetheart?" Marcus asked with a slight smile. "I was just starting to get used to squire and now it's Captain. What's next, a _knighthood_?" he asked, trying to make light of the situation. _You still haven't told her about what Nevalle said before you faced Lorne, have you?_ his inner voice asked. _The way things are going, a Knighthood isn't as farfetched as it may seem, and you've got to admit Lady Neeshka sounds right. _Marcus sighed; he didn't need reminding of that just now. "Anyway, the rest of you had better find a place to set up camp. I think it's going to be a while before we can sleep inside the Keep. I better go talk to Veedle and Kana," the harbourman said as he made to walk up the rise that led to the inner courtyard and the Keep.

"Kalach-cha, know that I need to speak with you," Zhjaeve said.

Marcus smiled slightly. "Don't worry, Zhjaeve, I'll make sure we get to talk, but I have things to see to first. Casavir, can you come with me, please, I may need your advice on a few things."

The paladin nodded as he followed the harbourman. "I'll help in any way I can."

"Oh goodie, we get to set up camp while Marcus plays Captain of the Keep," Shandra muttered.

Sand let out a sigh. "Be thankful we're not setting up camp in the wilds somewhere, _girl_."

* * *

"Ah, Captain, we've almost cleared the grounds. As you can see, there is much work to do, which requires a certain amount of coin. My men need to be fed, after all… and the amount of material..." Veedle shuddered a little, "…it will not be cheap. There is good news, though. Sir Nevalle formally commissioned me to work on the project and Lord Nasher will fund part of it." The master stone mason looked uncomfortably at Marcus. "But the other part... is up to you. I will need gold to rebuild… but Nasher's coin will cover expenses... for a time. I live for my work, you see… but others don't," he said.

"Dare I ask how much money Lord Nasher has given me?" Marcus asked.

"Not enough, I can tell you _that_. People just don't appreciate how much good masonry costs," Veedle said with a roll of his eyes as he passed a sheet of paper to the harbourman. "This missive details how much gold Neverwinter has allocated for Crossroad Keep. You can use those funds or your own to work on several things… the Keep, the courtyard, the fortifications, and the surrounding lands."

"How does the courtyard look now?" Marcus asked as his eyes grew at the amount of gold that Nasher had allocated for the rebuilding of the keep. The harbourman had never seen so many zeros.

"The courtyard itself doesn't need anything. But there are several buildings that will have to be built from scratch, like the smithy for example. You don't have to worry about rebuilding all of it… some accommodations will be built by people that come to live here. The inn, for example, is already operational, after the inside had been cleaned. Luskans are very untidy," Veedle said.

"And what about inside the Keep?" Marcus asked, looking to the Keep.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, the Keep has been laid bare to the elements for decades… many of the rooms are structurally unsound. I've closed off many rooms until my men can work on it. Rubble will have to be cleared and stonework repaired in there. But it can be done," Veedle said with confidence.

"The fortifications aren't going to be cheap, are they?" Marcus asked as he looked over at what was left of the Keep's outer walls.

"No, I'm afraid they're not. The fortifications need _extensive_ work, and it's also the most time-consuming to work on. The outer walls wouldn't hold out a kobold with a table knife right now. And the fortifications are what Lord Nasher cares most about." Veedle replied.

"Is there anything wrong with the surrounding land?" the harbourman asked.

"Nothing is wrong with it, it could just be so much more _right_. Crossroad Keep is atop a large hill, and the trail, like everything else, is in poor shape. It could be widened… maybe even converted to cobblestone. And the roads nearby have no local lord to maintain them, not since this keep fell. Those could be improved, as well as the bridges, and... well, a great deal can be done," Veedle said with a shrug. "Mostly that will help with trade, and that in turn will help with you... ahhh... funding the rest of the projects the men and I would like to undertake. Rebuilding roads is simple but very labour intensive."

Marcus nodded. "Alright, Master Veedle, I should really go and speak to Kana and I'll get back to you on what I'd like you to start on."

"Very well, Captain, I'll be here," Veedle said as he turned back to his work table which was littered with plans and drawings.

* * *

Elanee stood as she finished pitching the tent she'd been helping Shandra with and looked over to Zhjaeve. She still stood off to one side, watching everyone set up the camp, though the wood elf suspected that the githzerai had been watching Neeshka most of the time, something Elanee was sure the tiefling didn't like, if the twitching of her tail was anything to go by.

The wood elf walked over to where Zhjaeve stood. "Are you alright?" Elanee inquired.

"No, I am not. This plane is strange to me. In time, I suspect, though, I will adjust," Zhjaeve said as she turned to face the wood elf. "I would like to know about the Kalach-Cha and the…" the githzerai paused a moment, thinking, "…the tiefling. What is it that is between them?" Zhjaeve asked, sounding slightly confused.

"Ah, that is a question not easily answered," Elanee replied as she led Zhjaeve away.

"Sure, talk about me like I'm not here," Neeshka muttered to Khelgar as she helped the dwarf with another tent. "What's the big mystery about me and the harbour boy anyway?"

The dwarf chuckled. "Well, might be something to do with that githzerai not being from round here."

* * *

"Captain Ballard, I'm surprised to see you still here," Marcus said as he walked into the keep and saw the war veteran waiting for him. "Is it just me, or do you look a little pale?" the harbourman asked.

"No sir, it's not just you," Ballard said. "Me and the boys saw _something_, when we were disposing of the Luskan corpses. We'd just started clearing the courtyard, as we'd already done the keep. When we'd got to the mass grave there were these _things_, I'm not sure what to call them, shadows doesn't seem to fit, getting up out of the open grave and walking off. They didn't seem to see us, or if they did took no notice of us at all."

Marcus exchanged a look with Casavir before he turned back to Ballard. "And how many of these things did you see?" he asked.

Ballard gave a shrug. "Don't know, about five, maybe. We weren't getting too close, didn't know what we were facing. Demons are one thing, we know our weapons can hurt them, but those _things_?"

"Alright, thanks for telling me, Captain," Marcus said.

"We figured you might know what they were and how to kill them," Ballard said.

"Well, I'm not sure what they were, not yet, anyway. As to killing them, maybe, hopefully," the harbourman replied with a frown. Had they really stopped Garius or not? Marcus was sure he wasn't going to like the answer to that.

"I better let you go, Kana is waiting for you. Also, we managed to salvage some of armour and equipment the Luskans were using. Might come in handy for some of your Greycloaks to use," Ballard said, with a crisp salute before he left the keep.

"It is an honour to serve, Captain Marcus. You have been rewarded greatly with this Keep," Kana said with a deep bow. "Long have I waited for my blade to be in the service of someone _worthy_. My waiting is over."

"Don't know about that. I'm not as worthy as you may think," Marcus said with a half smile, thinking of a certain red haired tiefling of the female persuasion. "The honour is as much mine to have you and the others work with me."

Casavir let out a deep chuckle. "Neeshka is never far from your thoughts these days, is she?" he asked.

Marcus just grinned at the paladin. "And Katriona is never far from yours, my friend."

Kana was unsure of what to make of the byplay between the two men. She wasn't used to things being so relaxed. "You are too modest. We are the ship and_ you_ are the wind that moves us," she said awkwardly. "There is much yet that needs to be done. Rebuilding the Keep itself Master Veedle can handle. But training the Greycloaks to defend its battlements is very important. Training a few men can be done quickly with the right teachers. We already have half a hundred men. And if the Keep grows, so will your retinue and your command." Kana smiled. "So we must start with the basics and turn these farmers and shepherds into fighting men."

Marcus frowned. He didn't like the implication. "Hang on a moment, Kana… are you telling me that we have fifty men, but they have yet to have any sort of training? They have no armour, no weapons to speak of? That is what you are telling me, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, Captain," Kana replied, unfazed.

"I wonder whose bright idea _that_ was. Nevalle's, most likely," Marcus muttered darkly. With a sigh, the harbourman folded his arms. "Fine, besides training, and arming the men, what else needs to be done?" _Do I even want to know?_ Marcus thought. _And Veedle, you're building the smithy first._

"There are a few families of farmers that will want protection from the local keep, as they had in years past. This section of the High Road has also been plagued with bandits since Crossroad Keep fell to the King of Shadows years ago," Kana said. "We have been given the right to tithe merchant trains that come through. But until the road is made safe, any tithe collectors will find the road empty. Merchants prefer safer, longer roads… especially if they make more profit. But _all_ of this relies on training your Greycloaks into capable soldiers."

_So why didn't Nasher simply rebuild the keep, why leave it this long? Politics was never my thing._ "Obviously," Marcus said dryly. "However, we won't be doing much of anything until the smithy's built, and the men are trained and equipped." The harbourman sighed again. "Who in their right mind sets up a keep without a half decent garrison?" he wondered. "Don't even _think_ of answering that, Kana. Is there any more good news you want to give me?"

Kana stood ramrod straight. She was unsure of what to make of her new commander. "I will carry out your orders when you are away. Once the men are trained, you can start deploying them on road patrols and sweeps of the surrounding lands. As our numbers swell here, I could use more able sergeants to oversee the men. I'll be able to assign tasks to sergeants, if you find some for me," Kana said. "The decisions you make here may have a large impact on the 'Cloaks and the people on your land. After some time, I'm certain Lord Nasher will have direct orders for your men… but until then, they are yours to command."

Marcus nodded. "Alright, I think I know of at least two people that I can ask about being a sergeant, one is already here. I'll get back to you, Kana."

"There's one thing more, Captain. A man named Uncus Riverdweller is here. He says he's come here to do business with you. However, he won't reveal his _business_ to me. I don't think he is a threat, so I've allowed him to wait for you in the Keep," Kana said, pointing to a man who was keeping to the shadows of the Keep's interior.

"Alright, I'll speak to him when I get a chance. It's getting late and I still have a few things to see to." Marcus said. _And I need to ask my resident nimble-fingered thief about him, too._

* * *

"Do you think I can do this, Casavir?" Marcus asked as they walked out of the keep and back towards where Veedle waited. "Turn this pile of rubble into a fully functioning Keep? Because I'm not sure I can," the harbourman admitted.

"It will not be an easy task, Marcus, but you can do it. You _will _do it," Casavir said. "You will have the able assistance of Kana and Veedle, as well as the rest of us." The paladin hated seeing the look of self doubt that was now on the harbourman's face.

Marcus managed a smile. "Thanks, Casavir, my friend. I think I'm going to need reassurance, and frequently too. I'm in that far over my head, I can't even see daylight anymore."

Casvair nodded his understanding. "So who, may I ask, did you have in mind asking to serve as sergeants?"

"Well, I was thinking of Katriona, for one. She has the experience and she might be able to blunt Kana's… enthusiasm for the rule book," Marcus said. "And I know you'd feel happier about her being here rather out with us. I also have a friend, Bevil, back in West Harbour who might be able to fill a sergeant's spot. He's pretty easy going so he would be good at leading the road patrols, when we get that far, that is." The harbourman grinned. "I can just see it now, arriving in West Harbour on the day of the Harvest Fair with a full squad of 'Cloaks and on horseback. That'll give Georg a wake up."

"I'm sure Katriona would be happier serving as a sergeant, too. And yes, it would give me peace of mind knowing she's relatively safe," Casavir said.

"Master Veedle, I have a rebuilding job for you," Marcus said as he and Casavir walked up to the stone mason.

"Ah, music to my ears, captain! What can I get my crew to work on?" the stonemason asked.

"There are two projects that need seeing to soon as possible, if you have the men. First, I want the smithy operational. Without it, we can't make armour or weapons for the men, shoes for the horses and so on," Marcus said. "The other thing is that I want you to try and make the Keep at the very least weather proof. I don't want to spend too long sleeping in tents."

Veedle nodded. "Nothing like a bit of a challenge, eh, Captain?" he said. "I can have the smithy done in short order. Weather proofing the keep might take a little longer, but we can do it, I think."

"Good. I shall leave that in your capable hands, then," Marcus said before he walked back down towards the camp, with Casavir following.

"Marcus, you will need a weaponsmith, an armourer, and quite possibly a miner for the raw materials. How do you plan on recruiting them?" the paladin asked.

Marcus smiled. "Before we left Neverwinter to come here, I dispatched letters, first to Jacoby, the weaponsmith at Fort Locke. Commander Tann isn't going to like the fact I've just pinched his smith but still, I now outrank him. And there is Edario, an armourer I met in Highcliff. Lastly, there is Calindra, who we met in Port Llast. I just hope she's still there."

"I think your fears of being able to run this keep unsuccessfully are unfounded, Marcus, but as I said, you will not lack for help," Casavir said with a smile.

* * *

The sun was just starting to set as Marcus climbed up the battlements to where Zhjaeve was, looking out at the plains that surround the Keep.

"Look, even now shadows fall upon this plane… yet still its beauty persists. It is not surprising to me that our enemies wish to mar this place with their blades and their war," Zhjaeve said quietly as she heard the harbourman walk up beside her. "_Know_ this… the first glimpses of this conflict you have seen are not the first. They are but glimpses of things that travel well into the past and the present," she said, turning to face Marcus. "It is all part of a greater war, a war almost as great as the one that split my people on the sword of Gith long ago, and the tragedy is tied to such a blade." As the sun sank lower in the sky, the shadows that marked the change from day to night marched across the land. "These shadows you see... there is a Lord who dwells in darkness with them. And he has fought on this Plane before, against those who have embraced Gith's hatred… the githyanki," Zhjaeve explained. "He attacked them long ago, attempted to cast his shadows upon their fortresses in the planes beyond. The fighting was terrible, fierce, and it was only through the deaths of thousands of githyanki that this King of Shadows was driven back. But they were only capable of severing the portal through which he could attack them... And so the githyanki were denied a victory, and forestalled their war for a time." The githzerai studied the harbourman a moment. "But _know_ that the githyanki do not forget their enemies. And though the King of Shadows had been driven back, still they sought a way to reach him... to kill him. And as terrible as knowing the followers of Gith hunt for you, even more dangerous is this Lord, this King of Shadows."

Marcus had, for the most part, figured this out on his own. "So… what is this 'King of Shadows' exactly?" he asked.

"_Know_ that I will aid you if I can, but it may already be too late. The King of Shadows was not always tied to darkness, and that is part of the tragedy," Zhjaeve said with sadness. "His will was once devoted to an ancient empire, to the protection of its people. He was once the light of Illefarn, empowered with the strength to protect them from their enemies." Marcus's eyebrows shot upwards at the mention of the word 'Illefarn'. "He was bound to the natural magics of the plane, the Weave. But as much as a ritual created the Guardian that was to be Shadow, there is a ritual that will _unmake _him. It is a Ritual of Purification, designed to allow him peace when his days of sacrifice are done and the empire needs him no longer. If the ritual does exist, it lies within the ruined Illefarn city of Arvahn. It is there you must go, to purify yourself and gain the strength for the battle ahead."

"Oh, wonderful," Marcus muttered sourly. "We have a long dead empire to thank, do we? So how in the Nine Hells do we stop him?"

"_Know_ that this path is a dangerous one. Even the people of Illefarn, as powerful as they were, were unable to defeat the King of Shadows. But _know_ that this Ritual of Purification... and the blade of our enemies are the only chance of success in this. He can already make his presence felt beyond his chains. The advantage is his. If you cannot strike at an enemy, _know_ your battle is already lost." Zhjaeve looked the harbourman in the eyes. "You doubt me, and that is because you do not know me. I am a _zerth_, and I swear upon the Circle of Zerthimon that what I speak to you, I _know_ to be true. And _know_ that your life is as precious to me as it is for the followers of Gith to end it. And this King... _know_ that he threatens us all. You need allies, _Kalach-Cha_, not more enemies and doubt to divide you. For in dividing the mind, you divide the battlefield and you cut your strength in half."

"Can you answer me something, Zhjaeve. Why do you keep calling me Kalach-Cha?" Marcus asked, perplexed.

"The title of _Kalach-Cha_, do you _know_ it? You wear that title because the name _knows_ you, even if you do not _know_ it yourself." Marcus looked just a little confused by this. "But let me speak my thought plainly, without circles of meaning. They call you the Shard-Bearer, this _Kalach-Cha_, because you carry a piece of Gith's blade within you, near the heart. And you have always born it close to you." Zhjaeve placed a hand on the harbourman's chest. "It was once said that Gith's blade, once drawn, would never find a scabbard again… and now it is sheathed within you." She lowered her hand. "It sings, and they can hear it, as I hear it, whispering all the hate of Gith and the war she sought to bring to the planes... a war that would have ended us all, if Zerthimon had not met her blade with his at the Pronouncement of Two Skies."

"This just gets better and better," Marcus said darkly. "So you're trying to tell me I'm the only one that can defeat this King of Shadows?"

"_Know_ that you are the only one who can reforge Gith's blade and use it, once more, in a battle. A battle that will free your lands and people from an evil even greater than the evil the illithid sought to bring upon my people. There is no other. And if the title of _Kalach-Cha _displeases you, then_ know_ that _you_ must make another title. And perhaps your name shall be the battlecry by which this ancient enemy, this King of Shadows, will be defeated."

"Will you help me, Zhjaeve?' Marcus asked.

"I make this pronouncement to you, greater than the bond of Two Deaths As One, with a strength that echoes the Pronouncement of Two Skies," Zhjaeve said solemnly. "I make the Pronouncement of Three in Darkness, Two in Light. As the two of us shall meet this King in his fortress, it shall become a battle of three. And when it is over, the two of us shall walk in the light, and you will taste true freedom… just as Gith and Zerthimon did when they broke the will of the _illithid_ at Sagrassa's End." Zhjaeve bowed her head slightly. "It is my life I am giving you, _Kalach-Cha_, and I ask that you let me share your path with you." With that the githzerai walked away, leaving the harbourman to consider what she had said.

* * *

"Hey, you," Neeshka said as she came to stand next to Marcus. "Thought I'd find you still up here," she said. It was well past dusk.

"Yeah, still up here, wondering what in the hells I do next," Marcus said gloomily. "I'm in way over my head and I don't know which way is up just at the moment."

"Why, what's got you worried, harbour boy?" the tiefling asked, clearly alarmed.

"_Everything_, sweetheart. The King of Shadows, rebuilding this keep, Zhjaeve, Ammon Jerro… the list goes on," Marcus said with a sigh. "I'm responsible for what? Two hundred people or so? Those numbers will surely grow as we get this keep into shape. How in the hells am I meant to run this keep if the githzerai has us poking through some ruined city… and how in the Nine Hells did I get stuck with Kana? I think I'm going to go mad before too long." The harbourman blew out his cheeks in frustration.

"No, you won't, harbour boy," Neeshka said softly. "I'm here, we'll make it work. We have so far," she said, pulling her man into a hug.

Marcus smiled, remembering his vision from earlier in the day. "You're what has kept me going, Neesh."

The tiefling's face scrunched up in confusion. "What do you mean, Marcus?" she asked.

"You, and my love for you, that's what's kept me going, kept me fighting when things looked bad," Marcus said. "I've kept hold of the thing I want most of all, and that's you as my wife." The harbourman smiled. "I want to make this Keep _our_ home, somewhere we can raise _our_ children. Nasher may have put me in charge, and Zhjaeve wants me to defeat this King of Shadows." He paused a moment, caressing the tiefling's cheek. "But the _reason_ that this Keep will be rebuilt and that the King of Shadows will fall… she's standing before me. I love you, Neeshka, and I'd do almost anything to keep you safe," Marcus said as he kissed the tiefling breathless.


	25. Fences and Gardens

"Something smells good, lad," Khelgar said as he emerged from his tent and looked round their small camp in the courtyard of Crossroad Keep. He could see Marcus seated near the cooking fire, which was glowing and looked very inviting on this cool morning. The harbourman was slowly stirring the contents of the large pot that sat over the fire. Every now and then, he'd lean down and drop a handful of what to Khelgar looked like dried fruit, or some other ingredient into the pot.

"What you making, Marcus?" the dwarf asked as he ambled over. "Nothing too healthy, I hope?"

Marcus just chuckled. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, Khelgar, but I'm making Retta's famous, in West Harbour at least, fruit porridge. Guaranteed to stick to your insides and keep you warm for the rest of the day," he said, smiling. "Looks to be almost done; a little more spice and we're good. Never made so much before, so let's hope it works out."

"Well, lad, I'd better go rouse everyone. Don't want them to miss out on your cooking now, do we?" Khelgar asked with a grin, which grew slightly as he saw Neeshka leave the harbourman's tent. "Almost everyone," he said, correcting himself.

"Morning, you," Neeshka whispered as she sat next to Marcus, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Wow, a man that can cook! I'm such a lucky girl," she said with a giggle.

"Morning, sweetheart," the harbourman replied as he kissed the tiefling. "And I'll have you know, I take pride in the fact that I can cook," Marcus said half heartedly, puffing out his chest, which just made Neeshka giggle even more.

On the rise that led to the Keep's inner courtyard, Kana watched as her captain and his companions assembled for breakfast, one that her Captain had spent the past hour preparing. Kana did something she hadn't done since she was a small child: she bit her bottom lip. Kana was torn between the fact that she had a mountain of paperwork to go over with the captain, and intruding on what was obviously a tight-knit group. At last, Kana squared her shoulders and walked down towards the camp, which was near the ruined guard tower.

* * *

"I do hope we won't have to spend too long in these tents," Sand said as he ate a spoonful of the harbourman's porridge. "That's extremely good, Marcus. You're a man of many talents: swordsman, wizard and chef, it would seem," the moon elf said with a grin.

"Heh, glad you approve, Sand," Marcus said. "With any luck, Veedle should have the main Keep at least useable soon. You have to admit, the place got pretty trashed when we kicked the Luskans out," he said, passing a bowl to Zhjaeve.

The githzerai looked down at the steaming bowl of porridge uncertainly. "Kalach-Cha, know that I am uncertain if I can eat what you have given me. I am still unused to this plane."

The harbourman cursed, loudly. "Sorry, Zhjaeve, I keep forgetting that you're not exactly from around here," he said, as he looked towards the wood elf for help. "Elanee, any ideas? Will it be safe for Zhjaeve to eat?"

The druid thought for a moment before she nodded. "I would think so. Githzerai are humanoid after all. Also, myself, Sand and Khelgar, even Neeshka can eat most, if not all, food that humans would." Elanee tilted her head sideways. "If you like, I will keep an eye on Zhjaeve to make certain she has no adverse reactions to anything we give her. We don't want to poison her, after all."

Marcus looked relieved. "Thanks El, as always, you're a life saver. Not sure what I'd do if you weren't around." The wood elf merely inclined her head, colouring slightly. She wasn't that used to being openly praised.

Kana cleared her throat. "Forgive the intrusion, Captain, but there are some things we need to go through this morning."

"The joys of being a Captain, paperwork and meetings," Shandra said sarcastically.

"No need to rub the harbour boy's nose in it, farm girl," Neeshka hissed, more than a little miffed.

Marcus just buried his head in his hands. "Why, in Torm's name, why me?" he muttered, then he let out a sigh. "Alright, Kana, let's get on with it. What do you have to ask me?" he asked as he made a space for her to sit down.

Kana nodded her thanks, taking a seat next to Marcus. "Very well, as you know, the Greycloaks are primarily a peasant militia, so any man able to carry a spear is let in…. well, perhaps not _any_ man, criminals or those who have that air about them are not accepted," Kana said, her stomach growling at the pleasant food smells. "But _you_ don't have to be so lax, Captain. We can make our standards higher. If we have higher standards, we will find fewer recruits… but they will be more capable," Kana explained. "You can always lower the bar, if you need more men. But be careful, because once we lower our standards, we can never really raise them again."

Marcus just nodded as he thought it over. He dished up another bowl of porridge before passing it to the lieutenant.

Kana couldn't conceal her surprise. "Are you certain, Captain?' she asked. "As I said, I didn't want to intrude," she said, taking the offered bowl.

"You're not intruding, Kana," Marcus said with a slight smile. He was too much the gentleman to say he'd heard Kana's stomach growl. He leaned in to take a look at the pot that was still keeping warm over the fire. "And anyway, I've made more than enough." The harbourman grinned. "Unless Khelgar really gets stuck in. _Then_ there won't be enough."

"Hey, I'm not that bad, lad!" the dwarf said round a mouthful of porridge. He was on his third bowl.

"You _sure_ about that, barrel house?" Neeshka purred, as everyone laughed.

Katriona had to smile; this reminded her of Old Owl Well, though there wasn't the desperation that had seemed to plague the fighters of the Well. This group had a genuine camaraderie.

"If I might be so bold, Marcus, Kana has a valid point," Katriona said. "If you only accept the most capable of men and women as Greycloak recruits, you will have less, but they will be better to train, and in the end your forces will be of higher quality. Not to sound presumptuous, but my time in Old Owl Well, with Casavir, showed me what a much smaller, better trained and disciplined force can do against more numerous opponents."

Marcus cast a glance at the paladin and winked. "Well, Katriona, that sounded an awful lot like you offering to be my training sergeant. That's if you want to be," he said with a grin.

Katriona just stared at the harbourman, her mouth open slightly. She was also blinking rapidly. Finally she came to her senses. "Of course, Captain, I accept the offer!" Katriona said with a big smile.

Casavir chuckled lightly. "Marcus, I do believe that's the first time I've ever seen Katriona truly surprised by something." The paladin's pride in both the harbourman and his former sergeant were obvious.

"I'm glad you approve, Casavir. Means a lot to know I'm doing something right," Marcus said a little bashfully. As far as he was concerned, he was muddling along as best as he was able. Marcus was truly surprised he hadn't gotten any of his friends killed yet.

"Hey, you, come on, no long faces. It's unbecoming the Captain of Crossroad Keep, you know," Neeshka said with a slight smile, putting her arms round the harbourman. "You've always done the right thing by us all so far, even if I didn't always understand. We're in this _together_," she said, kissing him on the cheek. The rest of Marcus's companions nodded their silent support of their leader.

Marcus blushed a little as he kissed the tiefling on the forehead. "Thanks, sweetheart, needed to hear that," he mumbled before turning to face Kana. "Well, lieutenant, looks like you've got yourself a training sergeant, and we'll only accept the best we can."

Kana stood, looking a little awkward. Lord Nasher had warned her about the relationship between her new Captain and his tiefling consort. She also had, like most people of Neverwinter, heard the outlandish stories. However, it was going to take Kana a while to get used to the idea of her Captain having a personal life.

"Very well, we will only accept the best and brightest, Captain. We may get fewer recruits, but each one will able to be trained into formidable warriors," Kana said with approval. "And with your permission Captain, I'd like to assemble the Cloaks we do have for your inspection?" she asked. "Also, come and see me in the Keep, as there is something from Sir Grayson, for you."

The harbourman nodded. "That's a good idea, Kana, may as well see what Nevalle has saddled us with." He looked over to where Katriona was sitting. "And sergeant, you may as well go with the lieutenant to see what you can do," Marcus said with a grin.

Katriona grinned in return as she stood. "I look forward to the challenge, Captain," she said before walking off with Kana.

* * *

Commander Tann of Fort Locke wasn't too surprised to see the letter that was requesting the transfer of his weaponsmith, Jacoby, to Crossroad Keep. The only thing that did surprise him was that it had taken so long for anyone to realise just how good Jacoby was.

"You wanted to see us, Commander?" Sergeant Dobbson asked, as he and Jacoby entered the commander's office.

Tann looked up from the letter. "Yes, I did. I have a letter here requesting the transfer of our weaponsmith, Jacoby, to Crossroad Keep, by its new captain, Marcus Cole." Jacoby's eyes had lit up at the news. "That's also why I'm sending you and your men, Dobbson. You're acting as escort for Jacoby as the roads around the keep are infested with bandits and worse. And with the Mere getting worse of late, I don't want all my eggs in one basket. I'm assigning you and your men permanently to Crossroad Keep, Dobbson. Captain Cole could use your men's experience."

"Marcus Cole? Isn't he the harbourman that passed though here a while ago, with his tiefling lady friend?" Dobbson asked, scratching the back of his head.

"The same," Tann said with a nod. "Nasher has not only made the man a squire, but given him Crossroad Keep to run. I'm not sure whether to feel envious or not."

* * *

"Torm give me strength," Marcus muttered as he walked along the ranks of the men and women that made up his detachment of Greycloaks. They were all in good physical condition, as most were farmers and the like. Their weapons, however, if they could be called that … most were farming implements, though a few had what the harbourman considered to be a proper weapon, such as a short sword. And the armour situation wasn't that much better.

Marcus sighed as he turned and walked back to where Katriona and Kana waited. The harbourman's new mithral full plate armour shone in the early morning light. Kana had pulled him aside that morning and told him about the gift that Sir Grayson had left for him; as Captain of the Keep he had needed armour that reflected his position. The harbourman's mouth had fallen open when he'd seen it, as well as the accompanying mithral shield and a very fine-looking longsword.

"Well, Katriona, it looks to me as though you've really got your work cut out for you," Marcus said as he turned back to face the assembled Greycloaks.

"Don't worry, Captain, I'll get them ready," Katriona replied. "Though a lack of proper weapons and armour is going to hamper what I can do."

"Ballard told me that they'd salvaged some gear that the Luskans had stored here. I'm not sure there's enough to equip everyone, but it'd be a start," Marcus said. "It's in one of the storage buildings."

"Very well, Captain. I'll see what I can organise," Katriona said, as she made ready to march the Greycloaks to the storage huts and see what she could give them.

"Hey, you," Neeshka said as she came to stand by the harbourman. "So those are your Greycloaks? Not much to look at, at the moment," she said as Katriona led them away.

"Hey, yourself," Marcus replied, taking the tiefling's hand. "Yes, those are our Greycloaks, Neesh, and you're right, not much to look at just now." He turned his head. "Come on, I want to take a good look round this place, and I need to ask you about something too."

"Okay…" Neeshka said uncertainly. Her head still spun from last night's revelation.

Marcus just smiled. "It's alright, nothing like last night, sweetheart," he said, leading her around the back of the keep.

Kana stood alone for a few moments, a small smile showing before her professional mask fell into place. Kana gave a small nod before she entered the Keep. Perhaps Crossroad Keep would see better days once again.

* * *

Calindra couldn't keep the smile off her face as she read through the letter she'd just received from Neverwinter again. The young man who had helped her learn of what had happened to her old business partner, Bradbury, had now been made Captain of the derelict Crossroad Keep, and he required the services of someone with her talents. This was a far better opportunity than the long trek back to Amn. She would get her men together, and set out as soon as they had everything in order.

* * *

"What can you tell me about a man named Uncus Riverdweller?" Marcus asked as he and Neeshka inspected the rear of the Keep.

The tiefling's eyes grew slightly. "Now _there__'__s _a name I haven't heard in a long time," she said. "Uncus is a fence for Axle. I should know. I used to use him if I had stuff I needed to get rid of quickly," she admitted.

Marcus smiled a little. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me. So what's he doing here?" the harbourman asked.

"Well, Uncus is more than just a fence, he's... I don't what you'd call him, an agent maybe?" Neeshka said, unsure. "He often passes on instructions from Axle and other higher ups, gathers information and passes it along to whoever needs it," she explained. "Uncus is pretty harmless for the most part, but given his connection to Axle, I'm not so sure I want him around here," Neeshka said.

"Heh, I'd have thought you'd have liked the idea of a fence handy, sweetheart," Marcus said with a wicked grin. "But why would Axle send him if he knew you'd know who Uncus was?"

Neeshka giggled. "At one time, yeah, I'd have jumped at the chance," she said. "But not now. I've… well, learned stuff, you know." The tiefling looked Marcus in the eyes. "If you want to make this Keep our home, a safe place for us to raise a family, then there should be no place for Uncus or anyone like him," Neeshka said shyly as she looked away.

Marcus just smiled. "I'm proud of you, sweetheart. The Neeshka I first met wouldn't have said that to me, I don't think."_ She never stops surprising me, _he thought.

"No, she'd have tried to convince you to let Uncus stay," Neeshka admitted. "Though, as you say, why would Axle send Uncus here? I'm spymaster now, so maybe having Uncus around might be a good idea. I guess we need to talk to him and see what he's up to," the tiefling said, as she looked round the rear part of the keep where they now found themselves. "Huh, I wonder what this was for." The area was badly overgrown.

The harbourman studied the area. In front of him was the main portion of the keep and off to the sides were the east and west wings, forming an enclosed square. The square was overgrown with plants and weeds, after so many years of not being tended to.

"I think, Neesh," Marcus said as he drew his longsword and started hacking at the mass of greenery to reveal an old rusted gate and stone wall, "…that this may have been the private formal garden of the keep's lord. When it had a lord, that is."

"Do… do you think, we can replant this garden?" Neeshka asked quietly, her eyes moist.

"I don't see why not, Neesh. It would be a bit of work… but then, what doesn't need work here?" Marcus said, and then stopped abruptly. "Hey… what's brought on the tears, sweetheart?" he asked, noticing that the tiefling did have tears sliding down her cheeks.

"I told you that not all my memories of Helm's Hold were bad, harbour boy. The formal garden that Dumal had was one of them. I used to go there when the other kids had been really mean to the 'freaky horned kid,' or I'd just had a crappy day," Neeshka said with a sniff. "It was totally walled off, and in theory the only way to get to it was through Dumal's house. Heh, that didn't stop me."

"No, I'm sure it didn't," the harbourman said with amusement. "Was he ever mad at you?" Marcus asked.

Neeshka shook her head. "No, don't really think so. He was surprised the first time he found me in there. They'd been tearing the rest of the Hold apart looking for me. I'd heard them most of the afternoon. Dumal came out to take a break from the stress, I guess, and he muttered, 'Where are you, Neeshka' and I said 'I'm up here'. I was seated up in one of the fruit trees, an apple tree, I think it was. It became our little secret after that. It was my refuge from the world," Neeshka said with a smile.

Marcus gave the tiefling a hug. "Do you want the job of overseeing the restoration of the garden then? Turn this into your new refuge?" he asked.

Neeshka's mouth fell open. "Do… do you mean that, harbour boy?" she said, stunned.

"Yes I do mean it, sweetheart, this keep is as much yours as it is mine. At least that's what I think. You'll be able to put you own stamp on some of it," Marcus said. "And perhaps soon, you can go see Dumal at Helm's Hold and see if you can get some seedlings of the plants in his garden, for here." Neeshka didn't know what to say so she just settled for kissing the harbourman on the lips.

* * *

Vengaul Bloodsail casually placed his legs on the desk of Watch Marshal Cormick, making the other man roll his eyes. "If Brelaina walked in right now…" Cormick said with a smile.

"Ha, let her, lad, and see if I care!" Vengaul replied. "It's good to see you've recovered from that nasty business at the sage's home."

"Thanks, I'm glad to be back, but it seems you've been busy in my absence. I'd hardly know the docks now, they're so quiet," the marshal said.

"Yes the Bloodsailors have been busy taking out the trash," Vengaul said with a grin. "I have to say Moire was rather quite the let down once she finally showed herself. A lot like Callik, no sense of style," he mused stroking his mustache.

Cormick raised an eyebrow. "You faced off against Moire? Last I heard she was still smarting after the drubbing Neeshka gave her. Moire didn't take kindly to being bested by our tiefling friend."

Vengaul laughed. "No, that much was obvious from Moire's rantings. I'm sure she was trying to be intimidating, but she came across as having lost her mind. Almost felt sorry for her. The least I could do was give her a quick death," he said. "Moire looked quite surprised when I ran her through. I might be getting on in years, but I still know how to take the young ones down a peg or two."

Cormick nodded. "It's a pity it had to come to that. Still, with Moire, I don't think it could have ended any other way. So now what?"

Vengaul beamed from ear to ear. "With Moire gone the place has a sense of pride now, something the Docks hasn't had in years. The Bloodsailors control the waterfront and the Watch controls the streets. That's how it used to be, before the plague and that damned war with Luskan."

Cormick just smiled; it was good to have Vengaul back. "And speaking of Luskan, what do you think of our friend Marcus becoming Captain of Crossroad Keep? Neeshka won't know what to do with herself."

Vengaul twirled the end of his moustache. "Those two are in over their heads, but both are far too stubborn just to roll over and give up. They'll get that wreck knocked into shape, and I suspect Nasher knows it."

Cormick nodded. "You're probably right. And Marcus is a fellow harbourman, too. If there ever was a definition of stubborn, then 'harbourman' would be it," he said with a grin. "And only a harbourman would be crazy enough to fall for a tiefling and then make it work!" Cormick said, smiling.

Vengaul chuckled. "Aye, lad, perhaps. But when I saw them at Nasher's little shindig a month or so back, they had eyes for only each other," the old sailor said with a smile. "As long as I've known Neeshka, all she ever wanted was to fit in somewhere. A common desire, I suppose, but it was never easy for her, even in the Bloodsailors. Now she's found her place in the world, in the arms of a harbourman who accepts her for who she is."

Cormick nodded his understanding. "So, tell me, is Marcus your son?" the marshal asked.

"Truthfully, old friend? I'm inclined to say yes, after what Kari told me. Given that Esmerelle left Marcus her old Bloodsailor gear and the spyglass I gave her. It's pretty damning, wouldn't you say?" Vengaul said thoughtfully. "Ah, if I'd only known… but that won't change the past. I really need to go see the lad at his new digs."

"I can see it now, Vengaul. Lieutenant Kana will have a fit when you show up at the keep in all your flamboyance," Cormick said, grinning.

* * *

Marcus turned to Uncus as he entered the Keep with Neeshka at his side. "You, me, and Neeshka, library, _now_," he said, striding past the fence, heading for the library. "We want answers, and they'd better be good."

_Geez, Axle,_ Uncus thought as he followed._ Give me the easy tasks, why don't you?_

Kana looked bewildered, as she wasn't certain what had just happened. What she was certain of was that Uncus Riverdweller had some fast talking to do if he wanted to stay.

* * *

"So why has Axle sent you here?" Marcus asked once he, Neeshka and Uncus were in the library, as it offered some privacy for this conversation.

"There's no way of talking my way out of this, is there?" Uncus replied, stalling a little.

"No, not really, as thanks to Neeshka I know who you are and whom you work for," Marcus said, folding his arms. "Needless to say, I'm not thrilled with you being here and I have half a mind to throw you out. However, I'll hear what you have to say first."

Uncus nodded slowly. Now he understood Axle's instructions. "You can probably guess that one of my jobs is to be Axle's eyes and ears. Also, I have some... equipment that you and your companions may find of use, and I can move on anything you might find in your travels," Uncus said. "Information is power as they say, so I can help there too, if needed."

Marcus rubbed his beard in thought. _It might be worth the risk having Uncus where I can see him, _the harbourman mused as he looked over at Neeshka, who was also deep in thought. The tiefling gave a slight nod of assent. She was willing to let Uncus stay.

"You're lucky, Uncus. You can stay, but make too much mischief and Neeshka and I will have something to say about it," Marcus warned. "I'm sure there's a discreet building within the Keeps grounds you can use."

* * *

"Forgive me, Captain, but I've been lax," Kana said when Marcus and Neeshka returned to the main hall. "Lord Nasher has informed me that Garius's consort, Torio Claven, is in protective custody in Castle Never's dungeon. As Torio lost the trial by combat to you, it is you who decides her fate," Kana said. "Torio has offered her full cooperation and access to everything that she knows in exchange for her life. If you decide to let her live, she will be transferred to Crossroad Keep to serve as an informant. What do you wish to do, Captain?"

Sand looked over the top of the tome he was reading, a book on golem craft. He was endeavouring to get the blade golem they had stored in the basement functional. "Marcus, do not forget the conversation we had concerning our_ dear_ friend Torio. She may be _many_ things, but stupid isn't one of them."

Marcus smiled at the wizard. "No, I hadn't forgotten, Sand." He turned to Kana. "Lieutenant, have Torio brought here as soon as can be arranged, and under heavy guard. She might be an unpleasant woman but she was used by Garius, of that I have no doubt. She deserves a second chance."

Kana snapped off a salute. "It will be as you say, Captain!" she said before walking away to see to Marcus's orders.

"Are you sure you want that witch here, harbour boy?" Neeshka asked. "After all, she tried to get you killed!"

"Neesh, Torio is undoubtedly a mean and cruel woman, but she was being used by Garius, that much was obvious at the trial," Marcus said. "Don't you think she deserves a second chance? Now, I'm not expecting miracles where she's concerned, but still…"

Neeshka pouted. "I guess she does. Doesn't mean I have to like her, you know."

"I don't expect you to like her. Just be, well, yourself I guess, and we'll do okay," Marcus said with a smile.

* * *

"Are you sure this is wise, Serena?" Valen asked as they readied their horses for the journey to Crossroad Keep.

"Maybe not the wisest thing we've ever done but I feel a necessary one, Valen, dear," Serena replied. "The bandits will be a minor inconvenience on the way. It's what's happening in the Mere of Dead Men that bothers me. There is something very dark beginning to stir and, like it or not, our friend Marcus Cole is right in the middle of it all. He will need all the help he can get. And I want to make myself useful."

The weapon master nodded. There was no changing Serena's mind when she'd set it on something, they were much alike in that regard. "What about him?" Valen asked, looking towards Deekin.

Serena just smiled. "Oh come on, Valen, you miss the doom song, admit it." The weapon master just snorted. "Anyway, can you really see _me_ leaving Deekin here in Neverwinter?"

"No, I can't. And that's what I find worrying," Valen said, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.


	26. The Gathering

Axle smiled as he looked out his office window. So far things had gone better than he'd hoped and not worse as he'd feared. Moire was out of the way, permanently, though now his men had both the Watch and the Bloodsailors to deal with in the Docks, but that was nothing that couldn't be worked around with a little subtlety.

And then there was Uncus. The report he'd not long received from his agent at Crossroad Keep was what Axle had expected. Uncus's conversation (more like interrogation, Uncus had said) with Marcus and Neeshka had gone well. Uncus had been allowed to stay but he was going to be watched. _That's not so surprising,_ Axle thought with a rueful smile. _Given Marcus's nature, it's the best I could hope for._

Axle turned back to his desk as he still had a lot of work to do.

* * *

"Well, for better or worse, Torio is now here," Marcus said as he sat down at his desk with a groan. _The paperwork never ends__,_ he thought dismally. _And I'm sure there's more of it, the joys of promotion__,__ I guess._

Neeshka pouted. "I hope she has a bad fall on the stairs," she said. "Save me having to accidently push her one of these days. Though it was cool seeing Ballard and the others again."

Marcus shook his head. "Come on, Neesh, there'll be no accidents where Torio is concerned. You're better than that, sweetheart," he replied. "Yeah, and I'm still in shock over the fact that Ballard and his men want to stay and help out. Not going to complain about that."

The tiefling made a face. "I know, I know. Still, after what that snake tried to do to you, I can at least dream a little, can't I?" she asked, and then Neeshka smiled. "I might ask Guff and Wetherly to help out with the jungle out back." She was looking forward to starting her pet project, the formal garden.

"Sergeant Dobbson reporting, Captain," the Fort Locke sergeant said, saluting the harbourman and Neeshka as he entered the Keep with his men. "Commander Tann sends his regards, and Jacoby."

"This is_ exactly_ where I want to be. Back in the service of the Greycloaks, with a commander that doesn't have stones in their head," the weaponsmith said. "Not that Commander Tann was like that, but some officers I've served under…" Jacoby gave a visible shudder. "It's a right honour to be here, Captain. A real honour," he said.

"We also met up with Edario in Highcliff, and Calindra we met once we reached the high road, Captain," Dobbson said.

"Your… err… Keep looks real nice, Captain. It's not so different from Highcliff. Just a bit more rubble around… that's all," Edario the armoursmith said, feeling awkward.

"May your dealings ever prosper, Captain. I have found my way to your Keep, and I sense much economic potential," Calindra said in her Amnish accent, with a bow. "Your Keep is in desperate need of someone of my talents. Merchants and stonemasons alike need the fruits of the deep earth," she said. "I'll soon send my men out to the ore locations you detailed to me. Then we will all share in the coins and prosperity that follow, and your smiths will be able to produce the arms and armour your Greycloaks need."

"It's a pleasure to see you again as well, Calindra," Marcus said. "So, Sergeant, any bother getting here?" he asked Dobbson.

"No, not really, sir," the sergeant said. "We were hassled by some bandits once but Miss Calindra's men and my squad soon had them running. After that, we were left alone. It's as though the bandits decided that although Miss Calindra's caravan had stuff worth raiding, it was just too well guarded."

"Most of my men come from Amn, as do I. Amn is a country that has seen many wars, so most of the men have had some military training," Calindra explained with a smile.

Marcus nodded and he also noticed Kana's envious look. "Well, Sergeant, when will you be heading back to Fort Locke?"

"We won't be, Captain," Dobbson replied, matter of fact. "The commander's been getting worried by all the strange stuff that's been happing in the Mere. So much so that he used your request for Jacoby as an excuse to transfer some of his more experienced men, and here we are." Dobbson paused a moment, looking worried. "I don't think the commander is expecting the fort to survive whatever's going on."

Marcus frowned at that. _That does it, it's back to West Harbour and try and get Georg to relocate the village to near the keep,_ he thought. "Very well, dismissed, Dobbson, and welcome to Crossroad Keep, such as it is," the harbourman said.

"Um… Captain…" a Greycloak said hesitantly.

The harbourman turned to see the soldier looking pale and shaking slightly. "What's the matter, man?" Marcus asked.

"Ah… there's this really big glowing spider in the basement. What do we do?" the soldier asked.

"Really big glowing spider?" Sand repeated as he walked in from the library, a tome in hand. "Could it by our rune writing friend from the caverns under Ember?"

"Could be, I guess… One way to find out," Marcus said as he led the way to the basement, Neeshka, Sand and several very nervous Greycloaks following.

* * *

Kistrel turned to face the door of what had been Garius's ritual chamber. Now it was just an empty room save for the summoning circle that was still marked on the floor. Kistrel began to chitter excitedly when he saw Marcus and Neeshka walk through the door.

"Well, well look at who it is," Marcus said with a smile on seeing the large arachnid. "How did you know to come here, Kistrel? After all, you left rather abruptly last time."

Kistrel began to scribble what appeared to Marcus to be a crude drawing of the harbourman and Kistrel, both walking. There was a large gap between the two pictures. It would seem that Kistrel had been following the harbourman for quite some time.

"It wasn't that necessary to keep your distance. I would've welcomed your company, Kistrel," Marcus said.

Kistrel gestured around the room with his mandibles and then stared at the harbourman expectantly. Marcus got the impression that Kistrel was asking if he could stay.

"Of course you can stay," Neeshka said, smiling. "There's plenty of room for anyone who's a friend. Isn't that right, harbour boy?"

"Yes, that's right, Neesh," Marcus said.

Kistrel clacked his mandibles excitedly before turning back to whatever it was the spider was working on.

"Hmm, well, _that_ was fun," Sand said as he turned to walk away. "I'm going to see if I can work on that blade golem some more."

"And I'm going to take the lady of the Keep and finish the grand tour of her new home," Marcus said, taking the tiefling's hand, making her blush.

* * *

"What do you think of that old tower, Neesh?" Marcus asked as they walked away from the ruined structure that was near the main gates of the keep, and towards what had been a church. "I'd like to rebuild that for Sand. After all he's done for us, I think he deserves a proper wizard's tower."

"I like that idea, harbour boy, but don't say anything to him about it. Let's just surprise him," Neeshka said, stopping short. "Hey… is that who I think it is over by the old church?"

The harbourman looked to where Neeshka was pointing and smiled. "Yeah, that looks like Serena, Valen and Deekin," he said as they walked over to the unlikely threesome.

"Ah, Marcus dear, or should I say Captain?" Serena said as she turned to face them. "I'm glad you've come by, saves me having to try and find you."

"Oh, that sounds serious. What I have done wrong?" Marcus asked with a smile.

"Do you really want to know?" Valen said, seemingly seriously, but he did have a shadow of a smile.

Serena laughed. "No, dear, don't worry. I was just going to ask if you wanted me to run the church for you? As you'll need the services of a priestess."

The harbourman looked stunned. "I… ah… don't know what to say, Serena, but I'd be a fool to say no, so I guess the answer is yes, please."

The battle priestess smiled warmly. "Good, that's settled then! I'll talk to that charming Master Veedle and wave some gold under his nose. That should get him into action," Serena said with a wicked grin.

Neeshka shuddered. "Veedle stands _no_ chance," she said as everyone laughed.

"Um, Deekin gots one small request. Deekin sees ruined shop and was hoping you'd rebuild shop for Deekin?" the kobold asked. "Deekin can then have shop with a roof!"

Marcus smiled down at the little reptilian bard. "I think I can arrange that, Deekin." The kobold jumped for joy.

* * *

Marcus leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. _What a morning,_ he thought. _It's been mad, to say the least. I now have the services of a weapon and armour smith, as well as someone skilled in the mining and processing of metal ore. Shandra seems to be doing a good job of starting to clear the fields of the farms that are just outside the Keep's walls but she__'__ll need help_. The harbourman idly wondered if he could talk Orlen into coming and giving Shandra a hand. Torio was also here as well, though he hadn't had a chance to talk to her yet.

"Captain?" Kana looked a little worried. "Are you alright?" she asked as she sat down at the harbourman's desk in what passed for an office.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Kana," Marcus said as he sat up straighter. "The morning has been crazy... just resting my eyes."

The lieutenant nodded. "True enough, sir. Feeling overwhelmed, I imagine."

"One way of putting it, Kana," the harbourman said dryly. "When the Grand Champion herself tells you that she wants to run the Keep's church and she won't take no for an answer..." Marcus said with a slight smile. Having Serena here was a real confidence boost. "And then there was the arrival of Captain Ballard and his men."

Kana nodded as she wasn't sure what to say. "Captain Ballard, along with Casavir and Khelgar, has been a great help to Katriona getting our Greycloaks trained. And soon the two smiths will be producing armour and weapons, and we'll soon be able to start patrolling the surrounding area." She looked at Marcus. "But before that happens, we have to sort out the matter of the taxes. As Captain of Crossroad Keep, you have the right and _duty_ to collect taxes and tithes of the people on Lord Nasher's lands. It's left to your discretion how much you collect."

"Oh joy," Marcus muttered. "Something we never had to worry about much in West Harbour, as we are in the middle of nowhere. So what's involved?"

"Well, Captain, there are two taxes involved… those on merchants and those on the farmers," Kana explained. "These lands have been lawless for many years, and the rugged farmers here are not used to being taxed. They may well resent it. The merchants are also used to the Keep's portion of the High Road being a free road, if a dangerous one. If we tithe them at all, they may consider longer, safer back country roads or hiring ships from Highcliff. Until the land is tamed, any taxes you impose may only chase those we need away. The funds that you do collect go to the Keep's coffers and can be used for construction."

Marcus rubbed his beard in thought. "As much as I'd like not to tax the farmers, the sad truth is we need funds to rebuild this place," he said, waving a hand around. "Nasher hasn't exactly been generous with the funds he granted the Keep. Veedle's work is going to use up most, if not all, of that," he said with a sigh. "Alright, Kana; we'll have to tax the farmers, but only lightly. Hopefully that'll avoid the worst of their complaining." The harbourman cocked his head to one side. "Remind me, how are the tithes handled?"

Kana looked confused, but she didn't want to disappoint her captain. "I'm… I'm really not the best to ask. My understanding is simple at best..." she finally said, a bit hesitant. "But our patrols would stop the merchants… typically at bridges or at the Keep's gates and assess their wares. There is a schedule of fees based on what is being traded. Nasher said he would provide training for the men we select for the task. Greycloaks are ill-equipped to handle this on their own."

"Sounds about right," Marcus mused. "You know, Kana, there is more revenue to get from merchants than just taxing them at the gate. They spend coin and trade in goods while they're here. We can subtly tax these without raising their anger."

"I can talk with our innkeepers and local merchants... I believe that this could be arranged," Kana said, looking unsure. "If this works out… you will be collecting gold even if you don't tithe them a copper!" she said, clearly getting more interested as she thought the idea through. "Direct tithes would still generate more, of course, but it would be of great service. I will institute your plan, Captain!" she said as she stood to leave.

Marcus just sat there for a few minutes, and then he too stood before he went to the basement, as he'd seen Torio head down there earlier, no doubt to annoy Sand. Marcus had put off speaking to Torio for long enough.

* * *

"I didn't have this in mind when we came here," Guff grumbled as he swung the wood axe, taking another chunk out of an old dead tree that may have borne fruit once, long ago.

"Aw, come on, Guff. You're enjoying yourself, really," Neeshka said brightly as she battled with a clump of overgrown plants and weeds.

"Neeshka, you should know better. Guff always grumbles," Wetherly put in as he too swung a wood axe at another tree.

"Ask me, the only one enjoying themselves is Neeshka," Khelgar muttered as he hauled what once had been a bush over to a large cart and dumped it inside. "Which is something I can't figure out. After all, clearing this jungle that used to be a garden isn't easy."

"I love you too, barrel house," Neeshka retorted, sticking out her tongue. "I happen to like gardening; sure, it's hard work at the moment. But this place has got real potential. All my time at Helm's Hold wasn't bad, or wasted, you know," the tiefling said, sniffing a little.

"Now, come on, lass, don't you start getting teary-eyed on me," Khelgar said, coming over to stand next to Neeshka. "Didn't mean to upset you."

"You haven't upset me, Khel," Neeshka assured the dwarf with a smile. "Just remembering some happier times, is all. Plants don't care what you look like or what blood you have, they just, well, grow... and as long as you tend to them and keep them watered and pruned, they're happy."

"Well now, a tiefling with a green thumb, who'd have thought, eh?" Khelgar said with a grin, looking up at his friend. _Yes she is my friend,_ the dwarf thought with pride._ And if anyone harms her they__'__ll have Khelgar Ironfist to deal with!_

"Oh, sure make fun of me, why don't you," Neeshka replied, smiling. "Sometimes, just sometimes, I'd have liked to have stayed at the Hold, you know?" she said, sounding a little sad. "Dumal taught me a lot about horticulture, it was interesting and relaxing. But the place was way too religious for me. I guess that's because of having planar blood. So I ran away when it just got too much."

Guff and Wetherly had come over by this time, and both men were at a loss for words. This was the first time either were aware of her past at Helm's Hold.

* * *

Marcus was right. He found Torio in the basement watching Sand tinker with the blade golem. The harbourman was pleased to see that the Luskan woman looked well despite spending a few months in Castle Never's dungeon. It hadn't done anything for Torio's dress sense, however. Marcus took a few moments to study the former ambassador. Torio, he supposed, was an attractive woman. Her looks were striking and elegant. _And if it weren__'__t for those gods awful dresses she liked to wear_, Marcus thought, _she could turn a head or two_.

"The irony is sharp, indeed, that you, Marcus Cole, are rebuilding what Garius had tried hard to keep from Neverwinter's sight," Torio said as she saw the harbourman walk up to her. "Why Nasher never bothered with this keep before now shall remain a compete mystery to me."

"Yes, one best not test the edge, or else it could cause a nasty scratch, indeed," Sand said in a slightly warning tone as he continued his work on the golem.

"Sand... come now, let's not start. We both have such a disdain for personal politics, no reason for us to get on each other's bad sides," Torio said, scolding the wizard.

Sand turned round and raised an eyebrow. "_Is_ there another side to you? I shall make a note of it," he replied dryly, before he turned back to the golem.

Torio had to smile as the harbourman rolled his eyes. "Still, I prefer being here to being in a cell… unless you have some other plan for me that would make me long for prison walls?" she asked, uncertain.

"Torio, you have nothing to fear, I assure you, though you may want to stay clear of Neeshka for a while. You are far from being her favourite person," Marcus said, trying to put the former ambassador at ease.

"No, I suspect I'm not, where your tiefling consort is concerned," Torio admitted. "Tell me something, why didn't you have me executed? You would have been well within your rights to have done so."

"What point would it have served?" Marcus asked. "Your execution would have been meaningless. I'd imagine there are those within Neverwinter that would liked nothing more than to see your neck stretched. Though I have to say your neck looks fine the way it is."

Torio smirked. "Were you making a very feeble pass at me, Captain Cole?" she asked. "What would your dear Neeshka say?"

"You're not my type, Torio, you don't have horns or a tail," Marcus fired back with a grin. "And there's nothing wrong in saying that a woman looks attractive now, is there?"

The harbourman's last remark caught Torio off guard and it showed in her eyes. "You think I'm attractive?" she asked, but hastily corrected herself. "_Of course _I'm attractive, Captain," she said, smoothing her dress.

Marcus smiled slightly. "Yes, you are attractive, though that dress does you no favours," he said. "Just what has been Garius telling you all this time? I believe you deserve a second chance. You may be an unpleasant person, but your actions at the trial were not fully your own."

"And what would you do if I took this 'second chance' and walked out of the main gates?" Torio asked.

"I wouldn't try and stop you. That's up to you," the harbourman said with a shrug. "But where would you go? You'd be good as dead if you return to Luskan or Neverwinter, and I suspect that Haeromos at Port Llast would only be to happy to show you the inside of a cell. You're better off here and you know it," he said. "And who knows, perhaps you might have a change of heart... Not that I'm going to hold my breath on that one," Marcus said, trying to lighten the mood.

Torio arched an eyebrow at the harbourman. "Change of heart, my dear Cole? Are you _really_ that naïve?" she asked, studying him. "No, I don't think you are, are you? But you want to believe there is some good in me. Perhaps there was, I'm not sure anymore," Torio said sadly, her eyes downcast.

* * *

"You were a _Helmite_?" Guff asked the tiefling, surprised.

"Hells no, Guff!" Neeshka cried, making a face. "I was raised by Helmites, big difference you know. It wouldn't have been so bad but they love talking about Helm and praying, lots of praying. Drove me daft. I had no real interest in it," she said, rolling her eyes.

"So you're not that religious, then?" Wetherly asked.

"No, never really have been, for some reason. Guess it's my planar blood," Neeshka said with a shrug. "What really put me off was all the talk about the Wall of the Faithless, that supposedly surrounds the City of Judgment. A living wall of damned souls? Sounds like a scare tactic to me."

Both Guff and Wetherly looked shocked and even Khelgar raised his eyebrows. "You don't believe in the Wall of the Faithless, lass?" the dwarf asked.

"Not really, no. Does the Wall exist? Maybe it does. Am I going to end up in it? I don't think that's all that likely," Neeshka said. "Think about it, Khel, do demons or devils follow any of the gods? The answer is a definite _no_," the tiefling explained. "I've had years to think it over and this is the way I look at it: if you think you'll be walled, then you'll end up in the wall, and if not, then you won't. And I'm part planar, don't forget, so I'm more likely to end up in the Abyss after I die. Not a nice thought, I have to say," Neeshka said with a slight shudder.

"Is that why you follow Tymora, Neeshka? To avoid the Abyss?" Wetherly asked.

"Yeah, I guess, partly anyway and she seemed like my kind of goddess," Neeshka said with a slight frown. "Now, I'm not so sure. Anyway, let's see if we can clear this mess," she said, waving at the partly cleared garden.

* * *

"So what can you tell me about Black Garius?" Marcus asked.

"I met him many years ago on the streets of Luskan, and in retrospect I'm still unsure if it was a good or bad thing," Torio said with a shrug. "I was earning coppers, singing and performing in Luskan alehouses. Yes, I was once nothing more than a common working girl, as Sand and Neeshka pointed out at your trial, though I doubt they knew the truth."

"Torio, I do not know what to say," Sand said quietly. "Had I known the truth, perhaps I'd have reconsidered my 'docks prostitute' remark. But as Marcus has said, your choice of attire is less than flattering." The moon elf did feel ill at ease.

"Thanks you for your understanding, Sand, but my life wasn't so bad. Knowing Garius did have its benefits. Not the least of which was that he realised I had a sharp mind and taught me all I know," Torio said. "He used me to spy on other Hosttower mages that frequented Luskan's seedier districts, as well as their servants. From there, he was able to track their movements and their plans. As time wore on, and Garius's prestige grew, I became a useful tool... and eventually an effective weapon. There is only so much a wizard's scrying can see, and I became the eyes that saw the rest," Torio explained. "I have rarely seen someone of Garius's raw ambition. He was determined to become a master of the towers… and he rose through the ranks so quickly, so brutally, that he earned the name Master of the Fifth Tower. Ironic, considering there are only four towers. But I suspect his hunger for power led to his downfall... and led to his alliance with the King of Shadows. He became obsessed with the ritual, and it led him here."

Marcus nodded. "The ritual that took place here in the Keep, do you know what it was?"

Torio shook her head. "No, not really. The less I had to do with it the happier I was. The alliance with the King of Shadows was a delicate one, and the scales were heavily in the King of Shadows' favour," she said. "Something that did not sit well with Garius and his ambitions. Through research, he uncovered a ritual tied to the King of Shadows that would provide him with the power he needed to make the arrangement more to his liking. But you put an end to that. I suspect that was for the best. If it had succeeded, I do not believe we would still be here speaking," Torio said with all seriousness. "He had an agent in Old Owl Well, a priest of shadows, doing research upon corpses to uncover a process of allowing those with arcane abilities to keep them even after undeath claimed them. You killed that agent, along with several other shadow priests near Fort Locke and Highcliff, if Garius's rants about you were anything to go by. He also seemed to want the silver shards you hold. What they had to do with the ritual, I have no idea. And he also needed the Tome of Iltkazar, which was held by Luskan's neighbour, Ruathym."

"Calling Ruathym a neighbour is a bit of a stretch, you know," Marcus said, rubbing his beard. "It's got to be easily two hundred or so miles off the coast, and after seeing it on a map I'm still not certain which city lies the farthest away, Luskan, Neverwinter or Waterdeep," he mused.

Sand rolled his eyes at the harbourman. "_More_ relevant, dear boy, is that the tome also was part of the terms of the treaty between Luskan and Ruathym… and Luskan did _not_ enjoy being forced to give it to their island neighbour."

Torio nodded. "Indeed. Its theft caused Ruathym to mount an attack on Luskan, and Luskan was more than eager to respond. They have been at each other's throats ever since."

"Didn't the Hosttower know who stole the book?" Marcus asked, amazed.

Torio shook her head. "No, not really. Garius used Luskan resources to obtain the book... it was only natural that Ruathym blame Luskan. And Luskan has been eager to make Ruathym its own… Ruathym's accusations and subsequent attack on Luskan ships worked to their advantage… and Garius's," Torio said. "The war turned many eyes away from what he was doing. And trust me, only a war could turn away all the eyes of the Hosttower at once."

Sand frowned as he turned back from the golem. "I am somewhat surprised that the Hosttower was not more aggressive in determining who stole the book and why. It is unlike them, especially considering that it is a tome of great power."

Torio nodded. "I agree... they are not ones to let mysteries lie, especially political ones. I cautioned Garius against the theft, it seemed too much, too soon. He was determined to have it, however, and my words could not convince him otherwise." She let out a sigh. "But his alliance with the King of Shadows allowed him to succeed… and hide the theft… for long enough until the war had begun."

"Well, it seems Luskan has taken an interest in what Garius has been up to, for that's how we found out about Crossroad Keep. Their new ambassador, what was her name? Sidney Natale? She's a Hosttower mage, that much I do know," Marcus said.

Torio's eyes went wide. "Be _very_ wary of her, Marcus Cole. She is, last I heard, a master of one of the towers. If she is involved on Luskan's behalf, tread carefully, she's in this for her own gain."

Marcus smiled. "Thanks for the warning, Torio, but after having the misfortune of meeting the woman, I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her, which wouldn't be that far." Torio smiled a little at the harbourman's prod at Sidney's size. "Do you know where the Tome is now? We turned this place inside out looking for it, Aldanon was most upset that it wasn't here," Marcus asked.

Torio gave a shrug. "I do not know. The tome was used in the ritual, and I suspect if it had been found, something would have been said, but there has been no word. Whoever possesses it now, however, would have access to its secrets concerning the golems, as well as the portal magics it was rumoured to possess."

Sand frowned. "Well, the Tome of Iltkazar dates back to ancient Illefarn. It is said to have secrets for controlling golems… like our friend the blade golem, here…" he said waving at the inert golem. "As well as arcane knowledge of portals and portal creation. I doubt Garius could have constructed the blade golems as they are of Illefarn manufacture. But the book may have provided the means to control them." Sand looked Marcus in the eye. "Its other secrets on portals and planar travel aside, the Tome can be a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands… and with the Tome missing... I fear for Neverwinter," the moon elf said gravely.

Marcus let out a sigh. "You don't give me the easy ones, do you Sand?" he asked dryly. "Ancient Illefarn, all this seems to keep coming back to ancient Illefarn," the harbourman said with a frown as he turned and walked away, deep in thought.

Torio watched Marcus until he'd left the room, and then she turned to the moon elf. "Do you think he can do this?" she asked. "Defeat this king of shadows, whatever it is?"

Sand held the former ambassador's gaze for a time before he spoke. "I certainly hope so, Torio, for all our sakes. The alternative does not bear thinking about." The wizard snorted. "And to think Garius dared believe he could control such power."

"What would you do, Sand, if you were offered such power?" Torio asked thoughtfully.

The moon elf mulled the question over in his mind before he answered. "Truthfully, Torio, my dear? I do not know, but after seeing what became of Garius... I do not think I would take it. I'm content, as odd as that may seem to you."

The former ambassador just nodded thoughtfully as she turned back, looking at the doorway through which Marcus had left. _No__,__ Sand__,__ it's not odd__,_ Torio said to herself, _not odd at all._


	27. When the Cat is away

"You look like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, lad," Duncan remarked as he served Marcus and his friends their breakfast in the Phoenix Tail Inn. The half elf had kept the name once he'd been able to clean the tavern sign.

The harbourman let out a sigh. "That's because some days it feels as if it is," Marcus admitted. "There are days I just want to go back to West Harbour and forget about all this. But I can't. I know that, and it scares the Nine Hells out of me."

"Know, Kalach-cha, that doubt is part of the path that you must walk. However you are the only one who can defeat the darkness that hides in shadow," Zhjaeve said. "You do not walk the path alone and doubt can be lifted by lovers, friends and allies."

"Yeah, what Z-girl said," Neeshka replied. "I'm here when you need me, Marcus. I love you and you won't face this, whatever it is, alone. I promise," the tiefling said.

"Aye lad, you know me, if there's a fight in the offering I won't be far away!" Khelgar said, grinning.

"You aided me in Old Owl Well, Marcus, and I shall see this endeavour through to the end. With Tyr's aid we will stop this King of Shadows," Casavir's deep voice rumbled.

"You are a harbourman and I am of the Circle, but we are both of the Mere," Elanee said. "That is a bound not easily broken, my friend."

Marcus shifted in his seat, unsure of what to do. "Thanks, everyone," he said softly. "Duncan, do you need anything else for the inn?" the harbourman asked, changing the subject.

"Well now, let me see," Duncan replied, thinking. "Grobnar's not too bad as bards go. He's actually quite good, even if he can get easily sidetracked," the innkeeper said, nodding towards where the gnomish bard was seated, serenading Shandra much to the latter's amusement. "What I could do with are maybe some dancers." Duncan saw the impish grin appear on Neeshka's face and her eyes sparkle with mischief. "And no, lass, I don't mean ones like from the _Moonstone Mask_." The tiefling pouted and stuck out her tongue.

Marcus chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind, Duncan. You never know who you'll run into. Well, I guess I better do the rounds of the keep before we head for West Harbour," he said as he stood up and left the table.

"I'm worried about Marcus, Casavir," Neeshka said, watching her lover leave the inn. "He's hardly eaten anything this morning, which isn't like him at all," she said, indicating his almost full breakfast plate.

"Do you know what's gotten him so worked up?" the paladin asked.

"I'm not sure," the tiefling admitted. "But the harbour boy has been preoccupied ever since Sergeant Dobbson arrived from Fort Locke with news that the Mere is getting even stranger."

"He is worried about his home village of West Harbour and those who still live there," Elanee spoke up softly.

"Know that the Kalach-cha must return soon if he is to save those who remain," Zhjaeve said solemnly. Everyone else nodded at the githzerai's words. Zhjaeve did not speak often, so when she did, the others tended to take notice even if they had difficulty in understanding what she was saying.

* * *

Marcus found Sand in the library, studiously avoiding Aldanon, who was on the other side of the immense room with Harcourt. The old sage had cornered the moon elf once previously, and it had taken all of the wizard's willpower not to turn Aldanon into a toad or some other animal.

"Sand, you're a hard man to find," the harbourman said.

"Keep your voice down!" the wizard hissed. "I don't want _him_ to know I'm here," he said, indicating the sage.

"I know how you feel, Sand," Marcus replied with a slight chuckle. "I've been meaning to ask you something ever since you started training Neesh and me, but well, there hasn't been much of a chance until now."

The moon elf eyed the harbourman suspiciously. Sand had an uneasy feeling he knew what was coming. "That, my boy, sounds a little ominous," he intoned.

"Perhaps. When I was back in West Harbour, I told Tarmas that you were my teacher, and the old grump in his way told me he knew of you when you were in Luskan. Is that true, Sand?" Marcus asked.

The wizard sighed. "Yes, it's true. Tarmas and I had occasion to talk to each other a few times, but beyond that we barely knew each other." Sand frowned a little. "I seem to recall we discussed the whereabouts of a ruined Illefarn city, Arvahn, the very same one our githzerai friend wants you to visit." The wizard looked Marcus in the eyes. "The expedition the Hosttower sent there _never_ returned."

"That's... encouraging," Marcus replied grimly. "Was Tarmas a part of the expedition?" _If the old grump was, it would explains some of his stories he used to tell Amie_, he thought.

Sand nodded. "Yes, he was, as I recall. Obviously he survived, and for whatever reason never went back to Luskan and found his way to your little backwater."

Marcus nodded. "Are you coming to West Harbour when I go? Tarmas told me he had been led to believe you were dead."

Sand smiled a little and arched an eyebrow. "Was he now? That may have something to do with the manner in which I... left the Hosttower. Why not? It will be interesting to see how he's fared in West Harbour for all these years." The wizard's eyes sparkled.

* * *

"Hey, Marcus," Neeshka called on seeing her lover enter what would be the formal garden but currently was a large square of cleared earth. "What do you think now that we've got the jungle cleared?"

The harbourman let out an approving whistle. "This area is bigger than I thought," he said, looking around. "You've got your work cut out for you, sweetheart."

"Yeah, I was even surprised at what we found under that mess," the tiefling admitted. "You're thinking of going back to West Harbour, aren't you?"

"Yes, as it happens. What made you ask that, Neesh?" Marcus asked.

"I've noticed you've been restless the past few days, everyone has. I'm coming with you," Neeshka said firmly.

"Heh, now there's the tiefling I fell in love with," Marcus remarked, amused.

Neeshka grinned. "You sure you fell in love with me, harbour boy?" she asked playfully. "I didn't just charm you?"

The harbourman smiled as he stroked his beard in thought. "Well, I don't rightly know. You might have when we first met, and if you did, I can't say I'm complaining." He pulled the tiefling into a hug. "Charmed or not, I love you, Neesh."

"And I love you, Marcus Cole," Neeshka replied. "But I'm still coming with you," she said, pulling away. "You don't get rid of me that easily, you know."

"Damn, so much for the subtle approach," Marcus muttered. "I'd have thought, though, you'd have wanted to go to Helm's Hold to get the plants you need, while the weather is good and before we get too far in over our heads, though that's debatable," the harbourman admitted.

Neeshka placed her hands on her hips and frowned slightly. "I thought you were coming with me to the Hold. You said you would," she said, pouting.

"I know I did, but I wasn't expecting to get saddled with this," Marcus replied, waving at the keep, "or having to defeat something left over from a long dead empire." The harbourman rubbed his temples. "Truth is, Neesh, I need to be in several places at once, and there's only one of me."

"I know," Neeshka replied softly as she stepped closer, stroking her lover's face. "I wanted to you to be there."

"And I wanted to be there, but the best I can do is send Sergeant Dobbson and his men along with you." The tiefling was about to protest as he placed a finger on her lips. "It'd make me feel happier knowing there's someone with you."

Neeshka smiled, she could live with that. "So if Dobbson is going to be babying me, who's going to be babying you?" she asked playfully.

Marcus laughed. "Sand? He's coming along to visit an old acquaintance."

"So Sand and Tarmas know each other, huh?" Neeshka asked, intrigued.

The harbourman nodded. "Seems that way. Could prove entertaining," Marcus said with a grin. "Anyway, I better get going and do the rounds of the Keep," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Have fun!" the tiefling called.

* * *

"Ah, Captain, just the person we wanted to see," Jacoby said on seeing the harbourman approaching the smithy. With the weaponsmith were Edario and Calindra.

"That doesn't sound so reassuring, you know, Jacoby," Marcus replied with a smile.

"It's not as bad as it sounds, Captain," the weaponsmith said. "The three of us have been talking and well, I'll let Calindra explain, she's better at it than I am."

"The three of us have discussed the equipment situation of the Greycloaks," the Anmish woman began. "And we all agree that your men need new armour and weapons as soon as possible, for without them your men cannot do their jobs," Calindra said. "To that end, I'll supply Jacoby and Edario the processed ore directly from the deposits that you've found in your travels. If you find more, let me know, Captain."

"Don't worry Calindra, I'll tell you if we find any more ore." _Khelgar was right about keeping quiet about what we found in the orc caves, _Marcus thought. "Though how much is this going to cost?"

Edario smiled a little. "It's not going to cost you anything Captain, at least not right away."

Marcus blinked. "I don't follow," he said.

"You've got a lot on your plate, Captain," Jacoby said. "You need the equipment for your men so you can start patrolling the roads and such. We figure once that starts, and you start getting merchant caravans through here, you'll then have the money to pay for the armour and weapons," the weaponsmith said.

"Lord Nasher has put you in an unfair position from what I understand," Calindra added. "You are required not only to repair the Keep but train and equip your soldiers, who should really have been fully trained and equipped when they were posted here." The Amnish woman paused a moment. "We do not know all the details, but we do know that you have more... pressing matters to attend to besides rebuilding this keep."

"Well, that's certainly true, Calindra," Marcus replied. "I don't know what to say, but thank you, all three of you."

Marcus's next stop was the church that some of Veedle's men had already started working on. He saw Serena talking to the stonemason, so he waited until Veedle had left.

"Morning, Serena, I see you have Master Veedle eating out of your hand," the harbourman remarked by way of greeting.

The priestess laughed. "Yes, it's surprising what a little gold will do."

"Right, whatever you say, Serena," Marcus said with a smile. "So how long will it take?"

"Veedle thinks about two tendays to get the basic structure repaired, and then about a month for the fitting out of the inside," Serena replied. "You're off soon, aren't you?" she asked.

The harbourman nodded. "Yeah, got some business to finish up at West Harbour."

The priestess nodded, clearly thinking over something. "So you'll be away for a while and Kana will be in charge?" she asked.

"Yes I'm afraid so. I'm not sure what to expect when I get back," Marcus said, concerned. "As long as Khelgar and Kana don't come to blows, things might not be so bad."

Serena smiled brightly. "Oh, I don't think anything too bad will happen. I'll make sure of it." The priestess's eyes sparkled, which Marcus didn't find very reassuring.

* * *

The harbourman was deep in thought as he walked into the Keep's main hall. He'd completed his rounds of the courtyard and everything was going as it should, though the conversation with Serena had left him wondering what sort of mischief she was going to get up to while he was away. Now he was going to have to deal with Kana, as no doubt she wasn't going to be too thrilled about him heading to West Harbour.

"Lieutenant Kana?" Marcus called, trying to locate his second.

"Here, Captain," Kana replied, appearing out of a side room.

"I'm returning to West Harbour to see if everything is alright. After the news Sergeant Dobbson brought with him from Fort Locke, I have to go back," Marcus told her.

Kana nodded. "I think I understand, sir. Who will be going with you?" she asked.

"Sand and Neeshka, most likely," the harbourman replied. "Maybe some of the others if they want to."

"I see. Captain, you should take some of the Greycloaks with you..." Kana began.

Marcus looked a little shocked. "Whatever for, Kana? I'm going back to my home village. It's not like I'm going by myself."

"I know that, sir," Kana replied formally. "But you _are_ the Captain of Crossroad Keep. As such, I would be remiss in my duties not to insist you take some of the 'Cloaks with you."

Marcus let out a sigh. "Very well, Kana, I'll ask Dobbson and his squad. Would that be satisfactory?" he asked.

"Perfectly, sir," Kana said with a slight smile. "Have a pleasant trip, Captain."

The harbourman gave his lieutenant a look that spoke volumes before he turned and walked out the Keep to look for his friends.

"I'm sorry, Marcus Cole," Kana said softly. "But you're too important to this keep, to Neverwinter. I'll do all in my power to see to your safety and that of your lady, Neeshka." Nasher's instructions to the young officer had been very clear on this point.

* * *

"I can't believe it's Harvest Fair time again," Georg remarked to Tarmas as they walked through West Harbour. "A year since that strange attack. Did you ever discover what those bladelings were looking for?"

The wizard was silent for a time before he answered. "It is hard to believe a year has passed, certainly," Tarmas said. "As to what those bladelings wanted, you are best asking Marcus that question. He knows better than I."

"True I suppose," Georg answered. "Wonder if he and Neeshka will make it back this year."

_For all our sakes, I hope so,_ Tarmas thought grimly. The wizard had felt something the past tenday or so, like a storm building, and it would soon break.

Tarmas snorted. "I doubt it, Georg, Marcus will be far too busy with Neeshka to worry about coming here," he said sourly.

Georg chuckled at the wizard's remark. "You don't change, do you, Tarmas?"

"Of course not," the mage answered.

* * *

"What are you planning, Serena, my love?" Valen asked as he eyed the priestess carefully.

"Why should I be planning anything, Valen, my dear?" she replied, a smirk on her face.

The tiefling weapon master grunted. "You have that look in your eyes," he said. "And that usually means trouble for some unsuspecting soul. If I had to pick a likely candidate, I would say it was Lieutenant Kana." Valen folded his arms, daring Serena to prove him wrong.

"I'm not that obvious, am I?" Serena asked, mildly horrified.

"No, I just know you, my love," Valen replied with a ghost of a smile. "So why are you planning on torturing Kana?" the tiefling inquired.

"I'm honestly very disappointed in Lord Nasher. He's thrown Marcus in at the deep end. So far he hasn't done too badly, I have to say. But..." the priestess turned to survey the Keep's inner courtyard. "But I can't see Marcus getting this place rebuilt quickly, not without some help," Serena said.

Valen nodded. "If Marcus had the money or the resources, it could be done, but he lacks both. Not to mention he has to worry about raising an army."

"That's my point, Valen, Marcus has too much to contend with. He also has the threat of the King of Shadows to deal with, which is going to be bad enough," Serena said, turning back to her husband. "If I can ease Marcus's burden a little, all the better."

The tiefling weapon master favoured his wife with a look. "You're not thinking of paying for the rebuilding of the keep yourself?" he asked, incredulous.

"And why not? My fortune is doing practically nothing. It's about time I put it to some use," Serena replied. "It will allow Marcus to focus on more important things."

Valen nodded; he knew when he'd lost. "Kana has no idea what's about to confront her," he remarked with a half smile.

Serena grinned wickedly. "No, none at all."

* * *

"There are days I just want to be Marcus from West Harbour instead of Squire Marcus or Captain Marcus," the harbourman grumbled as they rode along the high road towards Highcliff. "Somehow though, I think those days are long gone." _Being Captain of a keep has its upside. We now have the use of horses, _he thought.

"I know what you mean, harbour boy," Neeshka replied. "I'd be happy just being Neeshka the street thief." The tiefling looked across at her lover. "Though if I was, I wouldn't have met you or Sand, and well, I don't really want to think about what would have happened to me when that suppression spell failed." She suppressed a shudder at the thought.

"It pays not to think too much as to what might have been, Neeshka, my dear," Sand observed. "The two of you meeting happened for a reason." The moon elf regarded his two apprentices for a few moments. "The pair of you has a destiny before you," the wizard said slowly, "One that may well affect more than just this plane of existence. Only once we have been to the ruins of Arvahn will things become more clear. In the meantime, may I suggest that we press on to Highcliff?"

"Good idea, Sand," Marcus replied. "Sergeant Dobbson, when we get to Highcliff, you and your men will be accompanying Neeshka to Helm's Hold as she has some business there, while Sand and I go on to West Harbour."

Dobbson, to his credit, didn't bat an eye. "Aye, sir. I'll make sure Neeshka returns safely, Captain."

"Fear not, Neeshka, my dear. I'll keep an eye on Marcus for you," Sand added, winking at the tiefling, who grinned wickedly in return.

Marcus smiled slightly. "Should have known you two would be in cahoots with each other."

* * *

Serena walked into the main hall of the keep with one goal in mind, to fund its reconstruction. She surveyed the room and present were Kana, Casavir, Khelgar and the githzerai. From what the priestess could tell, the unfortunate Greycloak lieutenant was on the receiving end of a bollocking from Khelgar, while Casavir was trying to quell the dwarf's outburst. As for the githzerai, she was merely observing proceedings. Serena just shook her head and wondered at the wisdom of what she was about to do.

"Tell me you did not insist that Marcus take some of the soldiers with him?" Khelgar all but bellowed. "What were you thinking, woman? The lad can look after himself! It's not like he was going after this king of shadows! He's not even alone, he had Neeshka and Sand with him!" the dwarf cried. _If this is how Nasher repays his people, he can keep it, _Khelgar thought darkly.

"Khelgar, remember what our extraplanar guest has told us. Marcus is the only one who is capable of defeating this king of shadows. If anything bad were happen to him, it would be grave indeed," Casavir pointed out calmly. They were all still coming to terms with what Marcus and Zhjaeve had revealed over the evening meal the previous night.

"Aye, I guess you're right, Casavir. Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it," the dwarf said with a sigh. "The lad doesn't need that much babysitting."

Kana, for her part, didn't know how to react, so she let the verbal assault from the dwarf wash over her.

"No, Marcus doesn't need babysitting, but he does need help of a different kind," Serena said, entering the conversation.

Khelgar raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and what sort of help were you thinking of, Serena, lass?"

The priestess smiled slightly at the dwarf calling her lass. "Marcus needs financial help to rebuild this keep."

Kana frowned as she found her voice. "But Lord Nasher..." she began.

Serena snorted. "That money is almost gone, or as good as. Marcus has to do too much. Raise, train and equip an army to patrol the roads, as well as rebuild the keep. Then there is the matter of this king of shadows. Marcus, I fear, doesn't have the time to do all of it himself, though he's certainly capable of doing so."

"Know that the champion priestess speaks the truth, and time is not on the Kalach-cha's side," Zhjaeve spoke softly.

"What do you suggest then, Serena, my lady?" Casavir asked.

"Casavir, what have I told you about calling me that?" Serena answered in an amused, yet warning tone. "I get enough of that from Valen." The paladin at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "As to what I suggest, that's easy. I pay for the rebuilding of the keep. I have more than enough money," she explained, a smile on her face.

Kana didn't know what to say or do. _I'm supposed to be running this keep in the captain's absence, _she thought dismally, _but how do I say no to the Grand Champion? The captain has powerful friends and allies who are more capable of running this keep than me. _She felt useless.

"Kana, are you alright?" Serena asked, concerned, noticing the woman's rather bewildered look.

"Oh, sorry, Grand Champion," Kana said at last. "I just feel so... useless all of a sudden."

"You listen to me, Kana dear. You are still running this keep in Marcus's absence," Serena said. "All I'm doing is providing the money that Veedle needs to do the work to get this keep in order, nothing more." Kana gave a brilliant smile.

* * *

Neeshka looked at the walls that surrounded Helm's Hold, but she was seeing the past, or her recollections of it._ Has it really been fourteen years since I ran away from here? _she thought.

"Are you alright, milady?" Dobbson asked, somewhat concerned by the change in the tiefling. A short time ago, Neeshka had been chatting with him and his men, even showing off by casting a few spells. However, now she was quiet and contemplative.

"I think so, Sergeant," Neeshka replied, still a little preoccupied. "It's been many years since I was last here. It's affecting me more than I thought it would." She then looked over at her escort. "Did you just call me milady?" she asked curiously.

Dobbson nodded. "I did," he said.

"Um, why?" the tiefling asked, confused. "I'm not lady material, I'd have thought, as I keep telling the harbour boy."

The Greycloak sergeant smiled a little. "That's just it, Neeshka. You_ are_ the Captain's lady, in all but name. It's no secret that the two of you are together. That you're the Captain's..." Dobbson paused, trying to find the right word.

"Consort, girlfriend, whore," Neeshka rattled off in quick succession.

Dobbson coughed and cleared his throat. "The last you are clearly not, and I'd never imply that you were," he said, sounding offended.

"I know you wouldn't, Sergeant, but I'm sure there are those who think that's all I am. Just a cheap goat-girl whore," Neeshka replied, sounding bitter. She wasn't stupid, and despite having the approval of Lord Nasher and other higher ups, she was certain that most of the nobility saw her as nothing more than a whore with horns and a tail. If Neeshka were honest, it hurt, a lot.

The Greycloak sergeant was at a loss. What was he supposed to do now? "Neeshka, if the Captain were here, I'm sure he'd tell you how silly you're being, scold you and then kiss you senseless," Dobbson said at last.

The tiefling gave her escort a smile. "Yeah, you're probably right. Come on, then, Sergeant, let's get what we came for."

"As milady commands," Dobbson replied with a half smile.

"Behave, you!" Neeshka cried as she playfully elbowed the Sergeant in the ribs, much to the man's amusement and that of his squad.

* * *

"You were not over exaggerating the smell, my boy, were you?" Sand asked, wrinkling his nose as he and Marcus entered West Harbour. "And Tarmas willingly _stayed _here?"

"You get used to it after a while," Marcus replied. "But Tarmas, being Tarmas, was always conplaining about the smell, the damp or _something_."

"Yes that sounds much like him," Sand remarked dryly.

Their arrival in West Harbour had not gone unnoticed. "Well, looks as though Marcus has made it, but Neeshka isn't with him. I wonder who the elf with him is?" Georg asked, looking around. He'd been to talking to Daeghun.

"We will soon see," the wild elf replied.

"This should prove to be... interesting," Tarmas remarked, coming to stand alongside Georg and Daeghun for he recognized Sand easily.

"So the great hero returns, eh, Marcus?" Georg called. "What tales of daring do you have for us this time?"

Marcus snorted. "I wish, Georg. I've just been doing my job, rebuilding a ruined keep. However, that's not why I'm here. I need to talk to you and Daeghun about the safety of the village," he said in a serious tone.

"You're not dead," Tarmas said to Sand.

"And you still state the obvious," the moon elf replied. "I cannot believe you've willingly stayed here all this time."

Tarmas grunted. "I don't expect you to understand, but after Arvahn, this little village had tremendous appeal."

"Try me," Sand challenged. "I'll wager I know as much as you, if not more. And it has something do with a mutual friend of ours." Sand glanced at Marcus as he said this. "Some ancient Illefarn ruins that are not that far from here, as I understand it, the King of Shadows, and the battle that took place here."

"Well, now, you _have_ been keeping busy, as if teaching the boy and his girlfriend wasn't enough," Tarmas retorted. "Perhaps we should go to my house and discuss this further?"

"Indeed, that's the best thing you've said so far," Sand replied. "Marcus my boy, you know where to find me once you're ready to leave." So saying, the two wizards left for Tarmas's house, bickering the entire way.

"What was all _that_ about?" Georg asked, bewildered.

"Trust me Georg, when I say you don't want to know," Marcus said. He'd love to listen in on their conversation, but he had more pressing concerns. "Come walk with me, we need to talk."

* * *

"Neeshka, what brings you here?" Dumal Erard, the founder of Helm's Hold, asked, truly surprised to see the tiefling. He also couldn't help but wonder at the presence of the six Greycloaks.

"I'm happy to see you, too, Dumal," Neeshka replied almost flippantly. "It's been years since I was last here and, well, I need to ask you for something."

Dumal felt his eyebrows rise at that. "You need to ask me for something?" he repeated. "What kind of trouble are you in now?" he asked, eyeing the Greycloaks.

The tiefling laughed. "I'm not in trouble, for once, Dumal. Sergeant Dobbson and his men are my escorts for this trip. Marcus wasn't taking no for an answer."

"It's our privilege to escort Lady Neeshka," Sergeant Dobbson said, not wanting Dumal to get the wrong idea.

"I see. You'll have to forgive me Sergeant. As you may have gathered my past with the young lady is somewhat colourful. So what brings you here, Neeshka?" Dumal asked.

"Well, the harbour boy is in charge of Crossroad Keep, and while we were exploring it, we found what was once a formal garden. I've been given the job of replanting it," Neeshka explained. "So, um, I was hoping to get some plants from your formal garden..." she trailed off uncertainly.

Dumal smiled in understanding. "Ah, you want to have at the keep what you had here?" The tiefling just nodded. "It would be a pleasure to help you organise that. Come, Neeshka, it's changed a bit since you last saw it."

"That's not so surprising, Dumal, as it has been about fourteen years since I was last here," Neeshka replied, following the older man.

* * *

"Let me see if I understand you correctly, Marcus," Georg said. "You want me to move the _entire_ village to near this keep you now run, so we're safe from whatever is happening in the Mere?"

Marcus nodded. "Yes, that's what I'm saying, Georg. It's not something I'm asking lightly," he said, looking out at the Mere. "Surely you've noticed it? The change in the Mere. Even Sand commented on it on our way here. That was a conversation I'd rather not have had."

"The lad is right, you know, Georg," Daeghun added. "You don't have to go far from the village to see that something is wrong with the Mere," he said, pointing to the horizon in the distance. All three men could see a shadow draping the land, that appeared to be slowly advancing towards where they stood. "In time, this village will be claimed by whatever is happening. I feel it is best we are not here when that occurs."

Georg sighed. "Alright, Marcus, I'll do what I can. How long do you think we have, Daeghun?" he asked.

The wild elf thought for a time before he spoke. "A few days, no more."

"Get everyone and whatever they can take to Fort Locke, and I'll have some of my men meet you there and bring you to the keep," Marcus told Georg. "I hate to cut and run, but I better be going. I do have a keep to run, or rather rebuild," the harbourman smiled. "And I want to meet up with Neeshka."

Georg laughed a little. "Should have known she was the real reason you wanted to leave!" He let out a sigh. "So much for a harvest fair. We'll see to evacuating the village."

Marcus just nodded, as there wasn't much more he could say.

_A/N: Phew I never thought I'd get this chapter out! Hopefully the next one won't be so long in coming. Though with mum having some health issues at the moment I don't know how long it'll be._


	28. Mothers and Leeves

"Marcus my boy, before I forget, I had better give you this," Sand said as they made their way up the road that led to the Keep. "It's a map of Arvahn Tarmas made when he was there. I suspect you'll find it useful," the moon elf noted as he handed the document to the harbourman.

Marcus smiled. "This certainly will make life a bit easier, thanks, Sand."

"Don't thank me, it's that grump you should be thanking," the wizard replied.

"Your modesty is so overwhelming, Sand," Neeshka chimed in. "Is it me, or are there a lot more wagons filled with stone, not to mention workmen, around the keep?" she asked, looking ahead of them.

"No, it's not just you, Neesh. There _do_ seem to be a lot more wagons and workmen, and the outer wall actually_ looks_ like a wall, not a pile of rubble," Marcus observed. "We haven't been gone _that_ long, have we?" he asked, perplexed.

"No, we haven't," Sand replied. "Though _something_ has been going on while you've been away."

"No kidding, Sand. The question is what?" Marcus asked dryly.

"There's only one way to find out, Captain, and that's to enter the keep," Dobbson said.

"Why do all the really good things keep happening to me?" the harbourman muttered as they passed through the main gates of the keep.

* * *

What Marcus saw when they entered the courtyard, he couldn't quite reconcile in his mind. For there, in the middle of all the organised mayhem, was the stonemason Veedle, giving orders and finalising plans. Next to him were Kana and Serena. Kana looked, for want of a better description, lost, while Serena looked very pleased with herself and more than a little smug. _What in the nine hells has Serena been doing_? Marcus thought, _or do I really want to know?_

"Ah, Captain!" Veedle called on noticing the harbourman. "You're just in time! I hope the work so far is what you had in mind."

Marcus looked around him before he answered, to see just what was being done. Besides the outer wall, the main keep was well on the way to being habitable. Even the ruined tower was looking more like a tower instead of a ruin. "I can't complain, Master Veedle, though I was under the impression that we had too severe a lack of funds to even attempt most of this."

Veedle beamed at this. "Ah, well, the charming lady Serena here offered to fund whatever I needed in the way of men and material," the mason said, nodding at the priestess. "That was an offer I simply couldn't turn down!" The man's excitement was palpable even now.

"It's nothing, really," Serena said casually, as if she did this kind of thing every day.

Kana snorted. "I beg the Grand Champion's pardon, but spending your _own_ money, and quite large quantities of it I may add, is not what I would call _nothing_."

The harbourman's eyebrows threatened to crawl off his forehead, they'd risen so sharply. "Excuse me, Serena, but did Kana just say you are spending your own money on rebuilding this keep?" Marcus asked, uncertain if he'd heard correctly. He was also unsure of what to think. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he was better off _not_ thinking about it.

Serena smiled brilliantly. "You did indeed hear correctly, Marcus, dear. And don't worry, I don't expect a single copper back," she assured the harbourman. Marcus just nodded in response, for he was quite literally lost for words, as were Neeshka and Sand.

"I hate to be a bore, Captain," Veedle said, "but what do you want the tower by the main gate to be? It would make an excellent guard tower or wizard's tower."

The mason's question snapped Marcus out of his shock. "A wizard's tower, without question, Master Veedle, for our resident wizard."

At this, Sand raised an eyebrow. "I take it you mean me, my boy?"

"Do you see any other wizards, Sand?" Neeshka asked cheekily. "Of course the harbour boy means you!"

Marcus nodded. "Yes, I mean you, Sand, though it was meant to be a surprise..."

The moon elf chuckled. "Consider me surprised, Marcus," he said. "I suppose that I'll have to share my new abode with Tarmas when he arrives here?"

"Heh, only if you want to, Sand," Marcus replied. "That's one discussion I'm staying out of, if at all possible."

"Coward," the wizard shot back. "Hmm, I'll have to think about it..."

"Sounds to me as though it'd be like old times," Neeshka observed.

"Yes, you could say that, Neeshka, my dear," Sand pondered, "Though the lack oppressive evil in the air and the fear of waking up dead one morning gives the arrangement much appeal."

"A wizard's tower it is then, Captain!" Veedle enthused. "Oh and before I forget, I have something I must show you and your lady, Captain. Your own private suite, come along, and I'll show you!" The stonemason's excitement and enthusiasm seemed to be endless.

"We get our own private suite?" Neeshka asked as they moved to follow Veedle.

"It seems so, Neesh, not that I'm complaining about the idea of being alone with you," Marcus replied somewhat suggestively.

The tiefling grinned wickedly. "So you're thinking we could do naughty things together?"

The harbourman chuckled. "I'm certain we'll do _very_ naughty things," he said, slipping an arm around Neeshka's waist.

Kana gave a slight shudder as she watched her captain leave. "It's going to take me a while to get used to that," she said at last.

"The fact they're so comfortable with each other?" Serena asked curiously.

"Yes... no... I don't know," Kana replied, visibly frustrated that she couldn't express herself. "I know they're together, and until now it really hasn't bothered me," she said, watching her captain and his lady walk away. "But to hear them talking like that, it really makes you think what them being a couple really means."

"Yes, they do tend to challenge convention and what one thinks as normal," Sand observed, breaking the silence.

* * *

"Wow," was all Marcus could say as Veedle led him and Neeshka into their suite within the keep.

"You can say that again," Neeshka breathed. "This leaves the room we had at the _Mask_ for dead."

The room was huge, with a large double bed on the left side flanked by two equally impressive bedside cabinets and a pair of wardrobes. On the right was a large stone bath that could be hidden by a movable partition. Above them was a very ornate chandelier. On the opposite side of the room was a large, full height window that, on closer inspection, was actually a set of double doors that opened out onto a balcony overlooking the formal garden. On either side hung massive, heavy velvet drapes that could be drawn across the doors. Across from the balcony doors was a large fireplace that promised to keep the room warm even in the coldest winter. A thick rug was in front of the fireplace, and on it were two comfortable chairs, perfect for gazing into the fire on a chilly evening.

"I take it that the Captain is pleased?" Veedle asked.

"Yes, very much so, Master Veedle. You've done a wonderful job," Marcus replied.

"It was my pleasure, Captain," the stonemason said. "Though I was unsure what exact furnishings you'd need, so I simply stuck with the obvious. If there's nothing else, captain, I really need to get back to my work."

"Don't let us keep you then, Master Veedle. Thank you again," the harbourman said as the stonemason left.

"Wow, I can't believe that this is_ ours_," Neeshka said, looking about in shock as she sat down on the bed.

"I know what you mean, sweetheart. I'm having trouble believing it myself," Marcus replied, sitting beside her and giving the tiefling a hug.

"Hmm, you know I think we need to... test the bed," Neeshka suggested as casually as she could.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "And why would we need to do that?" he asked, not objecting to the idea.

"Well... we've got to know if it'll meet our needs," Neeshka said as she started to divest Marcus of his armour. "We're going to need a pair of armour racks and a weapons rack," she added as she removed the harbourman's longsword and placed it on the floor.

"Not a bad idea," Marcus agreed. "So, in other words, you want to do some very naughty things?" he asked innocently as he helped Neeshka out of her own armour.

The tiefling tried to look scandalised at the suggestion. "Whatever gave you that idea, my dear Cole?"

Marcus grinned wickedly. "What can I say? I've learned from the best," he said, claiming Neeshka's lips in a passionate kiss as he pushed her back on the bed.

* * *

Marcus knew the moment that he and Neeshka walked into the main hall of the keep that he was in for a stressful remainder of the day. _At least Neesh and I have our private suite to retreat to,_ he thought.

"There's a matter that requires your attention, Captain. There's a group of _people_ here to see you," Kana said, looking helpless as she was followed by four seemingly mismatched individuals. There was a human male who looked to be a sorcerer, a dwarf that had the air of a cleric about him and who had even shaved his beard, and two women, an elf and a halfling.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain. You've made a bit of a name for yourself… and I and my band were hoping to impose upon you," the sorcerer said. "You see, we want to follow in your footsteps and become adventurers. So we've pooled our resources to equip ourselves, and now all we need is a mission that will get us gold and riches."

"Torm help me. Just _what_ have they heard?" Marcus muttered as he let out a sigh. He didn't want to know the answer.

"Now, it's not just about that, Daerred, it's also about making the Realms a safer place," the dwarf cleric said. "Too much mischief afoot these days, if you ask me."

"Right you are, Brother Maxil. So… do you have any work for us?" Daerred asked hopefully.

Khelgar let out a snort as he walked in to the main hall, with Sand, Elanee and Casavir right behind him. "Turning _them_ loose sounds like a bad idea to me," he said with a grunt. "And a dwarf who shaves his beard is no true dwarf," Khelgar muttered. He'd sooner give up drinking than shave his beard.

"I _never_ sounded that way when I was starting off," Neeshka said with a shudder. "And if I did..." the tiefling trailed off, sounding suddenly unsure.

Marcus took Neeshka's hand and squeezed it affectionately. "Neesh, you never sounded like that, sweetheart, I promise you," he said with a smile. "Do you remember when we first met?"

"Yeah, of course I do," the tiefling said, blushing slightly. "Luckiest day of my life. I met you," Neeshka said softly as she kissed the harbourman on the lips.

Khelgar just rolled his eyes and shook his head, smiling slightly. He'd long gotten used to the spontaneous displays of affection from his friends, though it was obvious to the dwarf that Kana still felt unsure, as she was shifting her weight from foot to foot. As for Daerred's party, they seemed to be taking it in their stride.

Kana coughed lightly. "I tried to turn them away," she said apologetically, tactfully reminding her captain about Daerred's party.

Marcus nodded, the spell broken, which was just as well, as they could have gotten carried away. "So what skills do you have? Can you handle yourselves?" he asked Daerred, who seemed to be the leader of the adventurers.

"Besides my arcane skill and Brother Maxil's blessings, Juen and Candril have been practicing bladecraft since they were girls," Daerred said, drawing himself up to his full height. "We can handle danger!"

"Alright, Kana, I'm almost afraid to ask, but is there anything these adventurers can help us with?" the harbourman asked. There was some irony in this, Marcus was certain.

Kana frowned in thought. "Well… Near Port Llast we've heard rumours that the Luskans are plotting something," she said, unsure if this was a good idea. "If I had any spare men, I'd send them to investigate my…"

"You hear that? Now that's an adventure. Let's take the High Road, then!" Daerred cried with far too much eagerness and enthusiasm. It made Marcus wince.

"It's just a _rumour_… it could be nothing. Wait...!" Kana almost yelled, taken aback at how eager the sorcerer was as Daerred and his party walked, almost ran off. Kana let out a resigned sigh. "I fear we've set those poor fools on a dangerous course," she said, turning back to the harbourman. "Also, Captain, there's a sheriff from a nearby village that wants your help."

"Well met to you, Captain. My name is Donler and I'm the sheriff of Leeves… we're a small village, just south of your patrols."

"Wait a minute, we don't have any patrols set yet, do we, Kana?" Marcus asked, somewhat confused and taken off guard.

"Not as such, no. Sergeant Katriona and I have been sending out small training patrols. It would seem that they have made some of the bandits go elsewhere... in search of easier pickings," Kana explained.

"Which sends them right to Leeves, I'm afraid," Donler said glumly. "We're a halfling village, you see. Not more than two score of us. The bandits have raided our village twice… first time just to steal our pigs. But we're thinking it's going to get worse."

"So the sheriff wants us to send regular patrols their way to stop them," Kana said.

"Your Lady Kana has the straight of it," the sheriff said. "It's a lot to ask, I know, but we're desperate."

"No, it's not a lot to ask, Sheriff Donler," Marcus said, not at all amused by the situation he now had to deal with. "I was unaware of the patrols that Kana had sent out, and that your village was so close," Marcus said, looking towards Kana, a 'please explain' expression on his face. "If I had known, I'd have made certain that our patrols would stop by."

Kana felt as if she'd failed. "It would seem the maps and other information regarding the lands that surround the Keep are more out of date than I'd thought," she said, looking at the floor.

Marcus walked over to where Kana stood and placed a hand on his lieutenant's shoulder, making her look up. "Kana, you've done nothing wrong, don't blame yourself. Go and see Aldanon's assistant, Harcourt. He's a cartographer if memory serves. He should be able to help you draw up more up to date maps and information," he said.

Kana managed a smile. "Thank you, Captain. I will, as soon as we see to the sheriff."

Marcus nodded as he turned to the halfling sheriff. "I'll arrange to send two patrols to your village as soon as we can. I'll lead the patrols myself if need be. We'll give these bandits the message to go away," the harbourman said with a grin. "In fact, any of you feel up to a little trip to Leeves?" Marcus asked his companions.

"I'm always up for knocking some heads together, Marcus!" Khelgar roared.

"Tactful as ever, I see, Khelgar," Sand observed. "My considerable arcane talents could do with something of a workout."

"Careful, wizard, your modesty is showing again," the dwarf shot back.

Elanee let out a sigh. "Boys will be boys," she said. "I shall come as well. You may need my healing skills and the aid of the land."

"And I shall come; these bandits will not escape Tyr's justice," Casavir said with a nod.

"And I'm watching your back, harbour boy, no matter what you say. So I'm coming, too!" Neeshka said.

Donler had been watching events with some trepidation. He knew a little about the Captain of Crossroad Keep. The fact he was a harbourman and that the tiefling was his consort was common knowledge. But what the sheriff had just seen left him flabbergasted. Not only was the Captain going to send patrols, he was going to lead them himself, along with some of his allies. "There's... there's no way my village can thank you enough, Captain. Thank you!" The halfling gave a deep bow before he left the Keep.

Kana couldn't believe her ears. "Two full patrols, Captain? That could well set us back. I hope you've made the right call," she said, fretting.

"It is the right thing to do, Kana. It may set us a back a little, but we'll get over it, somehow, though Leeves wouldn't if we do nothing," Marcus said. "I've lived though an attack on my home village, and it's not nice. If I can prevent Leeves meeting a similar fate, then I've done something right."

Kana nodded. "Very well, Captain. I'll have the patrols assemble outside the Keep."

"Good, we better go and get ready ourselves," Marcus said, as he and Neeshka turned to go back to their room and gather their gear.

* * *

"Dumal, where is my daughter?" a woman's voice asked.

The Helmite looked up from the paperwork on his desk, and then stood up on seeing who it was. "Alana? What brings you here after so many years?" he asked, truly surprised to see her.

Alana let out a sigh. "Looking for my daughter, who doesn't seem to be anywhere around the Hold. I know time hasn't stood still, and she's probably grown up and has her own life, but I want to see her, and explain to her why I had to leave her."

"She hasn't been here since she was eight, Alana. She ran away, and to this day I still wonder if I could have done anything to prevent it," Dumal admitted sadly. He raised a hand to forestall the woman's protest. "You better sit down. This is going to take awhile. I can tell you, however, where to find your daughter."

Alana's expression brightened considerably on hearing this. "You can? Then where is Neeshka? Where's my baby girl?" she asked, trying to contain her excitement.

Dumal smiled. "I'll get to that, but first I better start at the beginning, so you know why she ran away in the first place." He wasn't looking forward to explaining that to the sorceress.

"I don't like the sounds of that, Dumal," Alana replied, clearly alarmed. "I thought when I left her here I was doing the right thing for her, but as time passed I've often wondered at the wisdom of that decision."

Dumal nodded before he spoke. "The first few years, Neeshka was happy enough, and quite a handful. Then she started predicting events that hadn't even happened. Neeshka was about three at the time." The Helmite paused. "This sent most of the Hold into a panic. I and a few others wanted to take her to Neverwinter and place her in the care of the Cloaktower mages, for it was clear to us she was taking after her mother." Dumal managed a sad smile at this. "Most wanted to simply suppress her powers, and a few even wanted to... well, they didn't get their way, fortunately. In the end, Neeshka had her powers suppressed."

Alana gasped, horrified at what she'd just heard. "My poor baby girl..." she whispered. "I should have never left her here." She looked up at Dumal. "To have your powers suppressed, I can't even imagine what that would be like..."

"Don't blame yourself, Alana, neither of us could have foreseen what would happen," the Helmite said, placing a reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder, "Though perhaps I should have been more prepared for the possibility than I was."

The sorceress nodded. "I suppose you're right, Dumal, but it still hurts. So how did Neeshka fare afterwards?"

"She was never quite the same. Hold life did not sit well with her. As she rightly told me not so long ago, she never got to be just a child growing up," Dumal explained. "Neeshka's fun-loving, playful, and mischievous personality was at odds with much of the religious lifestyle the Hold once had, and one day it simply got too much for her and she ran away to Neverwinter."

"Mystra's stars, what became of her?" Alana asked.

"I learned later that she was taken in by the roguish Vengaul Bloodsail. Needless to say, she's become quite an accomplished thief. So much so, in fact, that Nasher has recruited her as his new spymaster."

Alana's eyes grew in size. "Neeshka is Nasher's spymaster?"

"Yes," Dumal confirmed with a nod. "I'm sure Neeshka has quite the story to tell about that. Also, she now has the full use of her sorceress powers due to the suppression enchantment fading. That would be something else that Neeshka can tell you about."

Alana blinked several times. "Alright, Dumal, where is my daughter now?"

"You'll most likely find Neeshka at Crossroad Keep, along with her boyfriend," the Helmite added.

"Boyfriend!" Alana exclaimed, shocked even though she knew she shouldn't be. After all, Neeshka was a young woman now. "Anything else you want to tell me, Dumal?" she demanded.

"No, I think that's everything. Neeshka and Marcus can tell you the rest," Dumal replied with a grin.

Alana let out a resigned sigh. "Fine, at least I now know where to look for my Neeshka. Thank you, Dumal."

"You're welcome, Alana, now get going. You have a daughter to find and a possible son in law to torment." At that, the sorceress grinned wickedly before she left the Helmite's office.

Dumal looked thoughtfully at the door for a few moments. "Helm watch over you, Alana. I hope you find what you seek."

* * *

The trip to Leeves was uneventful but when they reached the village, things took a turn for the surreal, at least in Marcus's opinion. Most of the buildings were in proportion to the halflings that called the village home. The harbourman was just as tall as the sheriff's house. If Marcus actually stood on tip toes, he could look over the roof. He could certainly see why the bandits would consider Leeves easy to raid.

"Well this is... interesting," Marcus remarked, taking a good look around the village, and trying to work out the best way to set an ambush. It wasn't easy, as they couldn't really hide behind the buildings.

Sheriff Donler looked bemused. "This is your first time to a halfling village, then?" he asked.

"Yes it is," the harbourman replied. "It's surreal in a way. Everything looks familiar, but out of place. It's hard to explain."

Donler chuckled. "I understand. Most halflings that live here have much the same reaction the first time they visit a human settlement. Everything's so big!"

Marcus smiled. "I do notice you have one building that's human sized."

Donler nodded. "Yes, that's the tavern and supply store, as we do have some larger folk pass through here from time to time."

"Marcus, I have a suggestion that might help to catch these bandits unawares," Sand announced. "We use our familiars and Elanee's animal companion as scouts. They will not look out of place near the village. They will be able to notify us when the bandits draw near through the bonds we share." The wizard smiled. "Then we all drink an invisibility potion, or in our case cast the spell, and when the bandits enter the village..."

Neeshka grinned. "We reveal ourselves, surprise!" she said, rubbing her hands together. She liked the idea of being so sneaky.

Marcus nodded. "Not a bad idea, Sand. I have to say I like it a lot."

"In that case, I had better distribute the invisibility potions I brought with me," the wizard replied.

Soon everyone was ready, and in place for an ambush with a difference. Soon enough, Naloch reported seeing the bandits approaching. Once the bandits were in the center of the village Marcus and his companions revealed themselves, much to the shock and surprise of the unfortunate bandits. They tried to withdraw, but were cut off by the Greycloaks Marcus had brought with him. The battle didn't take too long, and soon all the bandits had either been killed or captured.

"Phew, that went better than I thought it would," Marcus said after the battle. "I'll make certain there's a regular Greycloak patrol, Sheriff Donler."

"That would be much appreciated, Captain," the Sheriff replied. "I won't keep you, as you have some prisoners to march back to Crossroad Keep."

"Indeed I do," the harbourman said thoughtfully. _Where am I going to put them? And what do I do with them?_ Marcus knew that, in theory at least, he could order their execution, but that seemed a bit of a waste and something of a last resort for the harbourman. _I'll lock them up for now and let Kana question them ,and then I'll figure out what to do with them_. Marcus rubbed his beard in thought. _Some of them are good fighters, so it would be a bit of shame, we'll have to see._

"Alright, Sergeant Jonson, let's get underway. We have a lot of ground to cover," Marcus said.

The dark skinned Sergeant nodded. "You all heard the man, move like you've got a purpose! And those of you who wanted to see Crossroad Keep's dungeon up close and personal, today is your lucky day!" Jonson bellowed.

_A/N: Another chapter done even if it took me a little longer than I'd hoped. Mum has come through her health problems ok so that's a load off my mind._


	29. The ruins of Arvahn

"We have arrived," Zhjaeve announced. "I can still feel the touch of Illefarn around us... and beneath us."

"So this is the city of Arvahn. Doesn't look much more than a pile of stones at first glance," Marcus said, looking around.

Zhjaeve smiled behind her veil. "It may seem that way to the eyes... but know there is power here, enough to turn the tide of the battle to come. Know that we must find the five statues of Angharradh if we are to complete the Ritual of Purification." The githzerai tilted her head to one side as if trying to sense them. "These statues are within these ruins, if our sources are true. Without undergoing the ritual, we cannot defeat the King of Shadows. We must make haste... the sooner we complete the Ritual, the sooner we can take the battle to our enemy."

"Agreed, there's something about this places that feels... off," the harbourman said as he rolled out the map that Sand had given him. "According to this map Tarmas made, he found one statue out in the open not far from here."

"Yeah, there's something making my horns twitch," Neeshka agreed. "And I think I can see that statue just across the bridge," she said, pointing ahead of them into the gloom.

"So where are the others?" Khelgar asked.

"According to what Tarmas was able to uncover, the others are hidden within the ruins of the city. There are three other buildings that are more or less intact. There's Riverdell Keep, the Temple of Seasons, and the gem mine." Sand explained what he'd learned from his grumpy counterpart. "Tarmas suspects each will house a statue. As for the fifth statue, that wasn't something Tarmas was able to answer, however."

"What is it with you and ruined keeps, lad?" the dwarf wanted to know as they walked across the bridge.

"Guess I must like keeps," Marcus replied with a shrug. "Well, there's the first statue," he said, looking at the imposing carved stone figure. "Tarmas forgot to mention the fact that the place is overrun with goblinoids, now didn't he?" Marcus added dryly, pointing up one of the pathways. In the distance they could see a group of goblins, orcs, and ogres fighting.

"Nothing surprising about that, lad," Khelgar said with enthusiasm. "Just means we get better at fighting, and they get better at being dead."

Marcus sighed. "Yes, you're right. We'll have to clear the ruins before we can really do anything else." _My favourite pastime, pest control,_ the harbourman thought dully.

* * *

West Harbour seemed eerily silent without its inhabitants, and there wasn't even a breath of wind blowing through the village. It was unnaturally still and quiet.

"So the town remains..." the gravelly voice of Ammon Jerro rang out as he mused aloud, as he walked to the spot where he'd fought the King of Shadows over two decades ago, where the silver sword had shattered. "...let us see if what I seek is here as well." As he spoke, his army of devils and demons began to search the abandoned homes.

The warlock remained where he was, standing by the scorch mark, looking down at it and studying it. "It is not here... Cole has it." As he spoke, he looked up. "Ah... he's found the first of the statues. I wonder, does he know where the fifth one lies?" He turned to a succubus. "We are leaving, what I seek is not here. I know where we must go."

Ammon Jerro walked swiftly and with purpose out of West Harbour and into the Mere, leaving behind a destroyed village, something even the githyanki hadn't been able to manage, but then fiends and their ilk aren't known for their subtlety in searching.

* * *

Finding the statues in Riverdell Keep and the Temple of Seasons had been relatively straightforward. It had been clearing all the monsters and passing the Temple's safeguards that had been the time consuming part. Now Marcus and company walked into the gem mine.

"Strangest mine I've ever seen," Khelgar grunted. "Looks more like a library to me."

"It does, don't it?" Marcus agreed, looking around. "All it needs is a librarian's spirit," he said, half joking.

"Um, you spoke too soon, harbour boy," Neeshka said in a hushed voice, pointing to the figure of a ghostly elf that had turned to face them.

"The dust upon the floor stirs beneath your feet... what brings those of flesh and blood to this empire of spirits?" the spirit asked, arching a ghostly eyebrow.

To the harbourman's ears, the ghost eerily sounded a lot like Sand. Casting a glance at the moon elf, Marcus could see that even the wizard was a little unnerved. "We're looking for Statues of Purification," Marcus said, turning his attention back to the ghost.

The spirit nodded, almost as if that was what he'd expected to hear. "Ah, has the Guardian returned, then? I heard the whispers, but I did not believe. His echoes are strong in this place, and the tides of spirits ebb and flow, signifying little. But ages pass, and names change. I have existed longer as a spirit than as a breathing, blooded elf, and I know little of the world beyond my books. You most likely know the Guardian by another name."

"Who are, or should I say were you?" Marcus asked.

The ghost almost smiled. "In life my name was Balaur. Now there are none with tongues or minds to speak it. I was the lorekeeper here before darkness came to Illefarn."

"Can you tell us anything about Illefarn and the Guardian?" the harbourman asked.

Balaur sighed. "The memories of our empire are... painful ones. Even to speak of it now is difficult." The elf's eyes became distant. "At times, I wonder if perhaps my memories of Illefarn are a dream... but always, the books here centre my thoughts and remind me of the truth of what once was." His eyes focused back on Marcus. "I know not the name of the lands that surround us now, but once, long ago, it was a unified empire, lands that welcomed humans and dwarves within its borders. Together, these people achieved a strength seldom seen in those times... but as all empires have a beginning, the end must come as well. Perhaps we erred in seeking to prevent that end. But it is difficult to simply let something one loves die without fighting to protect it."

"Protect it from what?" Neeshka asked.

"We had enemies, as all empires do. The orc tribes of the North plagued our borders... but our greatest enemies were the humans of Netheril, who took the magics that we had shared with them and built an empire of their own. But their empire grew so swiftly and wild..." Balaur explained. "The people of Illefarn had grown slowly and carefully, like a garden, but the humans of Netheril had little patience for such things... as they tasted power, they hungered for more." The ghost sounded saddened by this. "We meant no harm in sharing our knowledge. We had assumed that it would be used as we used it... carefully, responsibly." The lorekeeper snorted. "The Netherese were like children, playing with the land and the skies as if they were toys for their amusement. The Art is not meant for such things, and terrible are the consequences of abusing such power." The elf's ghostly shoulders slumped. "But the fall of our Empire came not from them. No, the darkness that came upon us had another source. One of our own making, but at the time we had no way to know this. By the time we realised our greatest mistake it was far too late."

"What was the Guardian like, before his corruption?" Marcus asked.

"You_ must_ understand this. The Guardian was an embodiment of the Weave, with a singular purpose. That purpose was to preserve Illefarn, and to destroy its enemies, should they attack," Balaur explained. _And with this singular purpose we doomed ourselves, _the lorekeeper thought.

"But he used to be a man. Surely something of his personality survived," Neeshka said, not completely understanding.

"Ah, child, there was a ritual devised to create the Guardian. It was meant to obliterate the man he was, leaving only his resolve to defend our nation. This was his sacrifice." Balaur paused for a moment, seeming to think. _Once I did think that something remained of the man I knew, and that belief led to disaster, _he thought bitterly. "Whether anything remained of the man I knew... I cannot say."

Sand gave a snort of pure contempt at the thought of what had been done so long ago. "He sounds like little more than a mindless construct," the moon elf spat.

Balaur shook his head vigorously. "No. A construct is inflexible. We required a Guardian that was pure of purpose, but able to reason and adapt and change. Unfortunately, the Guardian's flexibility became our doom. A simple construct, powered by the Weave, would have died when the Weave was disrupted. The Guardian was clever enough to find a new source of life. He turned to the Shadow Weave, and thus, he was corrupted."

"You said that the Weave failed. How could that be?" Marcus asked in disbelief.

"At the time, we did not know. Even now, I have only scraps of truth, gleaned from hapless visitors to this place in the early years of my undeath," Balaur replied. "As far as I know, the fault lies with a Netherese mage, Karsus. He tried to take control of the Weave, to become the new god of magic. This was madness, and he failed, of course. But in failing, he slew the goddess of magic. She was reborn moments later, but in that instant, all magic failed. That was the end for Netheril's floating cities, and it _should_ have been the end for our Guardian, as well."

"Ah, Mystra has always been... accident prone, but you'd think after all these millennia and several 'deaths' she'd learn to be more careful," Sand observed dryly.

Marcus rolled his eyes at the wizard's remark. "But the Guardian survived by turning to the Shadow Weave," he said

Balaur nodded. "Yes. And in so doing, he doomed that which he sought to protect. When the Guardian turned to the Shadow Weave, our empire crumbled. Our trees withered, their lives drained to feed his. Our people simply... waned. Dwarves set down their tools and stared numbly as their forges went cold. Elves lay down in their forests, motionless for days and weeks, as the wild things grew, and smothered them," the lorekeeper explained. "A few of us fled to the outer reaches of Illefarn, where the Guardian's Shadow was still weak. There, we plotted to end him. Three times we tried, and only on the third attempt did we partially succeed."

"Three times? What in the nine hells happened?" Marcus asked, stunned.

"We turned first to the Silken Sisters, six spellswords of tremendous power. Even the Netheril feared them, and we thought that they must prevail against the Guardian." Balaur paused. "Their fate was too terrible for words. Suffice to say that they failed." _You will know the horror of their fate soon enough_, he thought. "Then did the priest Annaeus devise the Ritual of Purification, by which we might weaken the Guardian. A great gathering of wizards and priests assembled to confront the Guardian. I was but a minor power in that host, but I remember those last hours well. We spoke the Ritual, and it functioned as Annaeus had hoped."

"But you didn't succeed, did you?" Neeshka asked.

The ghost seemed to shift uncomfortably. "No. We were... not entirely united in purpose," Balaur admitted sadly.

"What about the third attempt? Only partially?" the tiefling wanted to know.

"Regrettably, that... victory... is not recorded in these scrolls," Balaur replied, gesturing to the tomes that littered the floor. "Nor was I a witness, as I was dead by then. However I do know that at least one such witness still walks these halls. You might ask him, if you can ease his torment for a time. From what I understand though, he was walled up within the Plane of Shadow."

The harbourman blew out his cheeks. "Still, he must be stopped."

"Ah yes, the reason you are here. The statue you seek lies within the stone Communion Tree, a blending of arboreal and terrestrial. It symbolized the union of Illefarn's dwarven and elven peoples," Balaur said, pointing through an archway, where in the distant gloom could be seen the shape of a tree. "Opening the Tree requires similar unity... three elves and three dwarves of Illefarn, spaced equally around its trunk. Without these six, the Tree will remain closed to you," the lorekeeper explained. "Spirits of Illefarn dwell here, elves and dwarves who were bound closely to the Guardian, and the man he was, in life. His memory hangs heavy on their souls. If you gather these spirits to you, then the Tree shall open to reveal what it cradles within."

"So I need only gather these spirits, then?" Marcus asked, knowing it wasn't going to be that easy.

Balaur shook his head. "It is not so simple. Just as the Guardian has fallen into shadow, so have those who were tied to him. Their torment has spawned a legion of foul undead, manifestations of their pain and sorrow. Destroy these undead, and I believe their spirits would reappear. For a time, at least."

"So if we were to kill or destroy the undead, that might be enough?" Neeshka asked.

"Yes... but there is more. More that is my doing, I'm afraid," Balaur admitted. "If you intend to bring spirits to the Communion Tree, you must undo the wards on the walls of these ruins... the Ghost Lights, which keep the spirits at bay."

"Ghost Lights?" Sand asked.

"They are wards designed to shelter... and trap... the spirits within these ruins so they cannot spread their taint beyond this place," the lorekeeper said. "To your eyes, the Ghost Lights glow with a blue light, but to the spirits of my people, the glow is like that of the sun, a searing light that they cannot approach. As long as the Ghost Lights burn, the spirits cannot reach the tree."

"So how do we extinguish them?" Marcus asked.

"The touch of the living is enough… when they are touched by one that lives, they will go out. And once they are extinguished, the spirits may pass," Balaur said.

"Just want I wanted to be doing, slaying undead and talking to spirits," Marcus said dryly. "Should have asked Casavir to come along as well."

"So how do we go about this, then?" Khelgar asked. "I'm thinking we're in the area where the miners and that lived. The mine tunnels are probably deeper in."

"Sounds possible, Khelgar," Marcus replied. "Whatever we do, we better clear this entire complex of undead first, make our lives much easier."

The dwarf grinned. "After you, lad, lead on!"

* * *

Alana looked up at the walls of Crossroad Keep and sighed. _You never told me that my daughter was living in a pile of rubble that they're trying to make a keep, Dumal, _she thought as she passed through the keep's main gates.

The sorceress was looking about the courtyard, getting her bearings, when she was approached by a Greycloak sergeant.

"Can I be of some assistance, ma'am?" Sergeant Dobbson asked the woman he'd seen enter the keep. She seemed to be in her middle years. Her dark chestnut hair had streaks of grey sprinkled through it but the woman's deep blue eyes were full of life. What had prompted him to walk over to her was uncertain, but something told him she was no ordinary visitor to the keep.

Alana smiled warmly at the younger man. "I hope so, Sergeant," she replied. "You wouldn't happen to know a young woman by the name of Neeshka, by any chance?"

Of all the things Dobbson thought he may have been asked, he hadn't even considered that. The sergeant opened his mouth several times before he was able to speak. "Yes, I do know Lady Neeshka," he said, watching as the woman's eyes grew in size and her eyebrows shot upwards. To Dobbson, it seemed as if she were excited by the news. "Unfortunately she isn't here at the moment, and I don't know when she'll be back."

Alana's shoulders slumped. "Drat, of all the rotten luck," she said, disappointed.

For some odd reason, the woman's expression made Dobbson smile. "You're welcome to stay until Neeshka returns," he told her.

"Oh, I intend to, Sergeant," Alana replied. "I haven't come all this way _not_ to see my grown up baby girl," she said.

* * *

After destroying all the undead in the main complex, Marcus had elected to leave the mine tunnels until last. They returned to the Communion Tree to find a spirit of an elven wizard standing nearby.

"Is it done, then? Has the fool ended himself? Or did the ritual fail entirely?" the ghost asked. Marcus suppressed a shudder, for the voice sounded much like that of Tarmas, as if the place wasn't bad enough.

"This shade is cycling through events of the past... and perhaps has been ever since its death," Zhjaeve said, slightly confused. "I cannot say this for certain, but it is likely the one he is speaking of is the one who became the Guardian."

"Yes, the ritual was a success. The Guardian lives," Marcus said.

The ghost let out a snort. "What a waste. A waste, do you hear? And you can tell Annaeus that I said as much. I did not tutor that boy for twenty years, only to have him turned into some mindless monstrosity. A _waste_, I say!"

"But he chose his own fate, didn't he?" Marcus asked.

The ghost snorted. "Oh, yes. Chose it himself. Ever the patriot, he was." The wizard's voice took on a mocking tone. "_Sacrifices must be made, for the good of all. Illefarn is a great nation, and preserving it is our responsibility_." A pause. "Well, I say this. Let the weak and the worthless make the sacrifices. That boy had a _mind_ in his bone-cage. He might have advanced the study of magic, but instead, he threw it all away. For _love of country_." The last three words were spat out.

"So, he was a gifted wizard?" Sand asked, curious.

"Gifted?" The ghost seemed to ponder the question. "I suppose. For a human. Bah... yes, he was gifted, by the hells. A quick mind, a sharp wit, a noble spirit. Have you ever noticed, I wonder, how those who have everything are always the quickest to throw it all away?" he asked, folding his arms. "I heard how it ended for him. Lying there screaming for near a hundred days, with that fool girl at his bedside, as the Weave slowly burned away what was left of him, bit by bit." The ghost's shoulders slumped in defeat. "But he got his wish, didn't he? Lost himself and became the Guardian. All that he was, all gone..."

"Didn't you try to stop him?" the harbourman asked.

"Oh yes, I tried. But I hadn't been his master in ten years. Not long, for an elf, but half an eternity for a human. I simply _didn't understand_," the ghost said, rolling his eyes. "No one listens to old Master Isym anymore, do they?"

"So Annaeus had something to do with the ritual?" Sand asked, liking the long dead priest less and less.

"Yes. He devised it himself," the spirit replied with a sigh. "No, I'm giving the dwarf too much credit. Annaeus had _his_ help. My old apprentice helped devise the very ritual that would rip away his mind. I'm sure there's some form of irony there, yes?"

"We need your help. Will you come with us?" Marcus asked.

The ghost nodded. "Yes... I suppose I will follow."

* * *

Dobbson blinked several times. "You're Neeshka's mother!" he blurted suddenly. "Oh sorry, ma'am, pardon my manners," he added hastily.

Alana couldn't help but laugh at the shocked expression on the sergeant's face. "Yes, I'm Neeshka's mother. Not that she'd know who I am. I left her when she was very young."

Dobbson nodded. "Yes, I recall Lady Neeshka telling me something like that."

Alana looked thoughtful. "Why do you call my baby girl 'Lady Neeshka'?" she asked, curious.

The sergeant shifted his weight. "Ah, well, I'm not sure how much you know, but the Captain and your daughter are close, you see," Dobbson explained awkwardly. "So unofficially most of us 'Cloaks consider her the lady of the Keep. We wouldn't be terribly surprised if it becomes official sooner or later."

Alana couldn't help but laugh. "Dumal never told me that my baby girl's boyfriend was in fact Captain of Crossroads Keep!"

Dobbson raised an eyebrow. "Dumal? As in the founder of Helm's Hold?" he asked.

Alana nodded. "Yes, I take it you've met him?"

"Yes," Dobbson replied dryly. "Once, and that was enough."

* * *

"He burns. He screams... someone must _stop_ this. Why will no one listen?" The spirit of a young and very beautiful elven woman paced back and forth in the room they had just entered.

"You're speaking of the Guardian," Marcus said.

"Guardian!" the sprit snorted. "Is it a crime now to call him by his _name_? His real name? That man is gone, they tell me. Gone! If he is _gone_, then who lays in the temple, writhing in agony and calling upon the gods for release?" the ghost asked, frustrated and angry. "Four tendays have I sat vigil with the... the _Guardian_, as they call him now. His pain has only worsened._ Worsened_, when Annaeus promised it would ease!" The passion and anger in the woman's voice unsettled the harbourman a great deal.

"Know that this one may not even be aware that she is a shade... and that what she sees with her eyes is only the past, not us here, now." Zhjaeve spoke softly. "And the one she speaks of ... it must be the agony of the Guardian she is recounting for us now."

"Please. If you could only see him, you would understand. He is only a man, and they seek to make him some... immortal Guardian, to _join_ him with the Weave," the elven woman pleaded. "The Weave _fills_ him. It _boils_ in his every vein, day and night, tenday after tenday. Is it not enough that he must sacrifice his very self?" Her voice had lowered but the desperation remained.

"But didn't he chose to make this sacrifice?" the harbourman asked, a little confused by the spirit's reaction, though there was something about her behavior that seemed familiar, if he could only place it.

The spirit's eyes flashed with anger. "That's what they'd say but no one warned him of the pain. Annaeus speaks of patriotism. He didn't even_ know_ this would happen, and he doesn't care." The woman's hatred of the priest was clear to all. "I _hate _Annaeus. You've seen him speak of the ritual. Of the pain. It gives him pleasure. The dwarf tries to hide it, but watch his eyes, and you'll see..." The young elf took a breath. "I hate Annaeus, because he took _him_ away from me."

"So, you're a friend to the Guardian?" Marcus asked gently, suspecting that she had been far more.

The ghost of the elven woman blushed a deep red, something that the harbourman found strange as he didn't even know that spirits could do such a thing. "A friend to... to the man he was. To the man he _is_. He isn't gone yet, and this whole mistake... we can fix it. We can end the ritual before it destroys him," she begged.

_You were more than just a friend__,_ Marcus thought, _you were his lover_. The harbourman felt his heart break. What had it been like for the beautiful elf, he could only imagine. Marcus knew, without doubt, if he'd have to watch his Neesh suffer so long, he wasn't sure if he'd still be able to function. The harbourman turned to the tiefling who at the same moment looked at him. Neither spoke, for the look they exchanged said it all. They'd rather die than see the other suffer such anguish.

"What would you suggest, then?" Marcus asked, turning his attention back to the ghost.

"End this. Now. If enough of us come together, demand that Annaeus release him from the ritual, end his pain... It isn't too late, it can't be!" the ghost replied, resolute.

"But... the events you speak of... they occurred long ago," the harbourman said softly, not knowing what else to say.

The ghost looked and sounded confused. "I don't understand. I've just come from the temple. I can hear his screams, feel the warmth of his hands. We can still save him, I'm... I'm certain..."

Zhjaeve shook her head sadly. "Such reminders will be forgotten, there is nothing that can be done. The past surrounds them like a cage, and there is no key that will free them. Come, let us take this shade to the Communion Tree. There, perhaps, she will do more to help the one she loved than she does here."

Marcus sighed heavily. "I know, Zhjaeve, but perhaps if we can defeat the king of shadows, then maybe these spirits will find peace. It's the only thing that will release them, the only thing we can do for them." He turned back to the ghost. "I'm a friend. Do you think you can come with me?"

"Come... with you?" the ghost asked, sounding suddenly disoriented. "Very well. I will... I will follow."

* * *

Alana chuckled at the sergeant's remark about Dumal. "So tell me, Sergeant, what is the captain like?"

Dobbson smiled knowingly. "What you mean to say is how does he treat your daughter?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

The sorceress grinned. "Am I really so transparent?" she replied. "I shouldn't be so surprised, as it is my baby girl we're talking about. Even though I know she's grown up, Neeshka will always by my baby girl," Alana said. "So yes, tell me, how does he treat her?"

"I'll endeavour to tell you what I can, but first shall we go to the Phoenix Tail? I'm certain you could do with a good meal and a room," Dobbson said as he directed her toward the inn. "I'm Martin Dobbson by the way."

"And I'm Alana Firestar. You know, Sergeant, I think we'll get on just fine," she said as she led the way to the Phoenix Tail, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

* * *

"I've having a hard time focusing on the face of that shade," Sand observed as they entered part of the complex that had been a barracks. "There's something _wrong _about her."

The ghost, that of an elven woman wearing finely crafted chainmail armour, turned to face them. "Who approaches us, sisters? Does it look on us? Does it pity us?" the spirit said in a mournful voice. The face of the shade changed slightly, as did the voice. "Make it leave us, sisters! Of voices we hear plenty." This time it spoke more quickly, and in a much harsher tone.

"I've got a _bad_ feeling about this," Neeshka whispered.

The face and voice changed for a third time. "We were the Silken Sisters. The pride of Aelinthaldaar. Sword and spell we wielded, six we were, but now are one," the spirit said in a crafty tone.

Silence greeted the shade's pronouncement. It took several seconds for Marcus to even begin to comprehend what he was seeing and hearing. _The King of Shadows did that to six people? Made them into one? _he thought. _But I can only hear three. What happened to the others? I don't think I really want to know. And I have to fight this thing? _The thought of actually having to face the King of Shadows was now filling the harbourman with pure and utter dread.

"I've been told that you fought the King of Shadows," Marcus said at last, regaining his voice.

"It wants our tale..." the shade moaned mournfully. "Will it free us? Will it kill us?" it asked angrily. "Yes! A bargain! A story told, exchanged for peace!" the crafty voice said. "An end we crave, an end for true..." the mournful voice added.

"Know that I do not believe it possible to destroy these spirits. They are bound to the King of Shadows, and as long as he exists, they shall as well," Zhjaeve said.

"Destroying the King of Shadows may free you, but I'll need your help," Marcus told the shade.

"Does it know the Guardian? Does it know how the Guardian fell into Shadow?" the shade asked angrily. "We were the first, the first sent against him." The voice changed. "Sharpened swords. Sharpened spells. Went into the forest where _he_ was strong. Went in six, came out one." The shade spoke in a crafty tone.

Neeshka turned pale. "Just what kind of thing is this…King of Shadows?" Her tail twitched in agitation and she shivered.

"The King of Shadows... _combined_ you into one?" Sand asked, as even he was having a hard time accepting what he was seeing.

The shade nodded, speaking in the crafty voice. "He spied us in the wood. He fell upon us, drained our lives, and left our spirits naked, helpless." The voice changed. "Left our souls _screaming_ in the dark!" the shade cried angrily before the voice changed again. "But that wasn't all, was it sisters? No... he was angry. He wasn't finished with us. Not yet. He scoured us bare, made us shadow. He can _work_ shadow, _shape_ it as he wills. He worked us like clay. Like white, hot steel," the crafty voice said. "Six blades, _hammered_ into one!" the shade cried mournfully. "When six were joined, some voices were lost. Mouths sealed. Minds pulped. Three remain," the crafty voice said sadly. "Kill him for us. Show him justice," the shade begged. "Show him _pain_!" it cried angrily.

"I must open the Communion Tree. Will you help me?" the harbourman asked.

"The Communion Tree? Then it seeks to combat_ him_?" the shade asked angrily. "Come, sisters. Its hopes align with ours. Let us follow," it said in the crafty voice.

* * *

Commander Tann groaned as he looked out across Fort Locke. His fort was full of refugees,_ again_. Well, that wasn't completely true, they were evacuees from West Harbour. _Now if their escort from Crossroad Keep would hurry up and get here,_ he thought, _I can have my fort back, again._

* * *

"You must... pardon me, friend. It was not my custom in life to greet visitors with swarms of undead. I am called Annaeus," the dwarf said as they entered what had once been a temple.

"_You 're_ Annaeus?" Marcus asked, shocked.

The priest smiled a little. "Ah. The other spirits must have spoken of me. Even after so long, they bear me ill will, and I can't say that I'm surprised. How often, in life, did I come face to face with _evil_, only to find someone who was simply doing what he thought to be right and just," Annaeus said. "Yes, it all began with a silly, fat dwarf. I created the Guardian. That disappoints a lot of people, you know. Even offends some. So they make of me what they will. They call me madman, or worse. Let them say what they will. I know why I did what I did... why I created the Guardian, and later tried to destroy him."

"The Guardian... the King of Shadows... all this is _your_ fault?" Neeshka demanded, waving a hand about to indicate the ruin.

"Indeed, the fault is mine. If it makes you feel any better, young lady," Annaeus replied, unfazed. "I have been trapped in this foul undeath for more centuries than I dare to count, and I will likely remain here for many more. It's not a pleasant fate, but I would gladly endure my torments a hundred-fold before I took back the decisions I made."

"Surely you must regret the consequences of your actions?" Khelgar asked.

"The consequences?" Annaeus replied, raising an eyebrow "Thousands of innocent people protected from the wrath of Netheril. An enclave of culture and tolerance preserved, against a canvas of hate and war. No. I do not regret the consequences. The Guardian saved my people."

"Perhaps," Marcus allowed. "But the Guardian is the very thing that doomed your people."

Annaeus nodded at the truth of the harbourman's statement. "A man can act for good purpose, or for ill. But he cannot predict every consequence. Walk down one street instead of another, and you might doom someone to die. But you are a fool if you blame yourself for this. The Guardian was conceived with noble purpose. I foresaw no evil in his birth. My conscience is clear," the priest said.

Sand snorted with pure contempt. "Excuse me if I don't believe you. You are the fool if your conscience is truly clear," the wizard said. "You may have foreseen no evil in what you did millennia ago, but when one is dealing with the Weave, one must _always_ consider one's actions. But then you were a cleric, so it's hardly surprising that you did not truly understand the force you were dealing with." The moon elf's anger was palpable. The more he was discovering about the King of Shadows, the more he was appalled that they could have been so monumentally stupid as to create the Guardian in the first place.

Annaeus at least had the decency to look humbled by Sand's outburst. Whether he really was or not, no one could tell.

"So, how does the Ritual of Purification actually work?" the harbourman asked, wanting to be done with the priest as soon as he could.

"In many ways, it attempts to reverse the processes that created the Guardian... to the extent that such a thing can be done," Annaeus explained. "In truth, it merely allows one to weaken him. A fire burns wood to ash. The process can never truly be reversed, and so it is with the Guardian. He is utterly and irreversibly changed."

"I see. Well, I need your help to open the Communion Tree," Marcus replied.

"Ah... then you seek to combat the Guardian. Of course, I will help you. Lead on, and I will follow," Annaeus said.

* * *

"I don't know about you, lad, but that Annaeus should stay as a shade for all eternity for what he's done," Khelger said as they walked away from the Communion Tree. "He might be a dwarf, but he's no _kin_ of mine, that's for certain."

"All eternity is a little harsh, but perhaps he should stay a shade until he realises what the consequences of his choices really are," Marcus replied. "Come on, we have two more sprits to find, and then we can leave this gods forsaken place."

"That's the best thing you've said so far, harbour boy," Neeshka said "My horns are twitching like crazy." The tiefling shuddered, thinking back to the Silken Sisters. That had been too creepy for words.


	30. The Shadow Reaver

"So tell me, how does Marcus treat my baby girl?" Alana asked as she and Sergeant Dobbson sat eating their meal in the Phoenix Tail.

"With love, kindness and respect," Dobbson replied after a few moments' thought, as he wasn't sure what else to say. "I can remember meeting them for the first time back when I was stationed at Fort Locke. Neeshka had an unfortunate situation befall her, and I don't like to think how it could've gone if Marcus hadn't been there," he said, recalling the incident in Commander Tann's office.

Alana looked slightly alarmed at this. "What happened?" she asked, wanting to know the details.

Dobbson smiled a little. "I'll start at the beginning, so you'll know what had been going on." He spent a few minutes outlining the situation at the fort and the arrival of Marcus, Neeshka and Khelgar, the arrest of Valis and the search for Commander Tann. "It was when they returned with Tann and his missing patrol that things got... interesting," Dobbson said. "Valis was brought in and then Neeshka drew a dagger and leapt at the man. It was clear to us all she wanted blood, preferably Valis's. After what had almost happened to her, I can't say I blame her. Anyway, Marcus has calmly walked up behind her and tried to talk her out of killing Valis. Then the oddest thing happened. Neeshka just dropped the dagger as if it had burned her and ran out of the building, very upset. Marcus naturally chased after her."

* * *

"Do I... live?" the ghost of the dwarf warrior asked.

"No, spirit. You do not," Marcus said.

The ghost sighed. "I thought not. You know why?" he asked. "No pain. Never fought a battle and came out feelin'... well, feelin' like this. Like nothin'," he said with a shrug.

"Who were you?" Khelgar asked.

The ghost of the dwarf seemed to stand taller. "Thunderbelly, they called me, the Iron Arm of Dardath. First dwarf over the walls at Sunstone," he said with pride.

"Thunderbelly?" Neeshka asked, her eyes sparkling. "There _must_ have been a story behind _that_."

"Ha, yes there was, lass!" the ghost replied, grinning. "The name's on account of my appetite, see? Got it from the boys on the field of Delimbiyr. Here I was, smiting trolls left and right, and my belly's growling louder than me, on account of no breakfast." The ghost's voice became more subdued. "Good days, those were..." he said, remembering his friends who were long dead.

"I'm... I'm sorry," the tiefling whispered.

The ghost smiled a little. "Oh, don't you worry about me, lass, I'm all right. Always half-expected I'd end like this," he said. "I like this world too much to leave. I like to eat and wench and belch and fight!" he declared.

Khelgar gave a hearty belly laugh. "Now_ here's_ a spirit with some virtues I can respect," he said, his eyes shining.

"Heh, you would, barrel house," Neeshka added affectionately.

"I died in the battle, no doubt," the ghost said, his voice becoming hushed. "The _last _battle. When all that remained of Illefarn went out to meet the Guardian. They say we won. Walled him up in some Plane of Shadow," the ghost explained with a shake of its head. "But I don't call _that_ a victory. Victory's when I swing my axe and split my foeman's skull. That was no victory, even for the wyrm."

Sand raised his eyebrows at the mention of a dragon being involved. "Do you remember the battle and what became of the wyrm?"

"Aye, sure as steel," the ghost replied, nodding, his voice becoming distant as if he were reliving it all. "All the host of Dardath, a thousand banners, and iron... iron everywhere! Shining as far as I could see. And me at the head of it all, beside old Gristlebeard and Lady Crowspite. " He pointed upwards. "Above it all, that crystal wyrm. Gods, but he was big. Where he came from, who can tell, but he'd come to put an end to the Guardian, and that was enough for the likes of us," the ghost explained. "Good thing we had him, too. He fought even tougher than he looked. Managed to distract the Guardian while the wizards did their work. Ended bad for him, though." The ghost shrugged. "The Guardian did for him, like he did for all of us. We saw him fall. Just dropped out of the sky, all shining, like he was carved from diamond. The wizards weren't ready yet, so they sent us in next." The ghost paused. "Last I remember, the whole host of Dardath was marching forward, me and a few others at their head. Then, all around us, these... little shadows... they were everywhere. Hundreds of them." A slight tremor entered the ghost's voice. "And one of them, he... he was just there, in front of me, all of a sudden. So close, so close, and he reaches for me, and..." The shade visibly shook for several moments. "They beat him. Those wizards did, they trapped the Guardian. I don't know how I know that, but... I know," he said at last.

Silence reigned for several moments before Marcus spoke. "I need your help, Thunderbelly, as I mean to fight the King of Shadows."

"Aye. Whatever you need, lad. Thunderbelly's your dwarf!" the warrior's ghost bellowed with renewed purpose.

* * *

Alana leaned back in her seat. "Oh dear... that must've been... quite unpleasant," she said. "It seems I have to thank Marcus twice for my baby girl's life. Saving her from those thugs and saving her from herself."

Dobbson smiled a little. "Yes, there is that way of looking at it," he said thoughtfully. "During their time at the Fort, I do remember they seemed to flirt a lot with each other, much to Khelgar's disdain." The sergeant chuckled at the memories. "Now the dwarf would likely put his axe in anyone who badmouths either of them, particularly Neeshka."

Alana leaned forwards, her eyes sparkling. "So you're saying that the infamous Marcus Cole and my baby girl were attracted to each other almost from the start?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

Dobbson nodded. "It seemed that way to me, from what I saw at any rate. Needless to say, when I met them again many months later, I wasn't that surprised to learn that they had become very much a couple," he grinned. "One that had become the talk of Neverwinter."

Alana looked thoughtfully at the sergeant. "You know, I do recall hearing some rather outlandish tales about the squire of some knight and his tiefling girlfriend when I passed through Neverwinter on my way here."

Dobbson laughed. "Outlandish they may be, but those tales are about Marcus and Neeshka. And I shouldn't say anymore, otherwise you'll have nothing to interrogate your daughter about," he said as he stood to leave. "I really need to get back to my duties. It's been a pleasure to meet you, Alana."

* * *

"I can smell you, plunderer. I can taste your steel and hear the rustle of the hundreds you've slain, swirling and fading in your wake," the ghost of the old dwarf said, his voice bitter and twisted with passage of time.

"Oh,_ this_ is going to end well," Sand remarked, sarcasm obvious.

"Who are you?" Marcus asked, somewhat perturbed by the spirit's greeting.

"Names?" the ghost asked. "You won't find names in this place, plunderer, only questions. He's drained us all of names, just like we took his."

"You're talking about the Guardian," Khelgar stated.

"Yes. Our Guardian," the ghost nodded. "I wonder, have you asked yourself the question, yet? Have you seen past the ramblings of priests, past the sobs and sighs of broken minds, and spied the _real_ conundrum?" the spirit asked.

"That which the Guardian was created to protect, he ultimately destroyed?" Sand asked.

"Yes. Think of him... the perfect protector. They stripped him of his name, so he had no pride. They stripped him of his self, so he had no ambition. His purpose was as pure as it was simple: to protect his nation and destroy its enemies. He wasn't flawed, he was perfect. Yet still, he was our doom," the ghost explained bitterly.

"But... he destroyed you because the Shadow Weave corrupted him," Neeshka said.

"No... that isn't the reason at all," the ghost replied with a shake of its head. "The Guardian turned to the Shadow Weave to further his purpose. Only to keep himself alive, that he might protect his nation. There's a dirty little secret, one the others won't tell you. We struck first. We never bothered to learn the Guardian's intentions."

"But he destroyed the forces of Illefarn," spluttered Khelgar. "A _protector_ wouldn't do that."

"But think of it from his perspective. He is the Guardian, the prime defender of his nation. Then he is attacked by Illefarn's soldiers and wizards," the ghost explained. "No one is more devoted to Illefarn than he... therefore his attackers must be enemies, even if they do wear Illefarn's colours."

Marcus massaged his temples. Annaeus was easier to put up with than this insane dwarf. "So what were his intentions?" he asked.

"Who can say? The blood-drunk elf-girls swooped in before we could ask, before we could _think_," the ghost rambled. "Yes, the Guardian's nature had changed, but what did that mean? What did he want? Revenge? Did he want his life back? Did he simply want to feed? We didn't even try to find out. As for me... I don't think his motives had changed at all. Nor have they ever."

Sand frowned. "You think he's _still_ trying to defend Illefarn?" he asked, horrified at the thought.

"Perhaps. Or, lacking an Illefarn to defend, he is simply trying to destroy her enemies, wherever he perceives them to be," the ghost replied.

"This spirit has succumbed to madness, but in his madness he may see more clearly," Zhjaeve said.

Sand nodded. "For once I actually agree with our gith guide," the wizard added. "Though the truly insane one in this place must surely to be Annaeus. After all, he's the one that created this mess that we have to figure out a way to clean up." That was something the moon elf wasn't looking forward to at all.

"That's an... _interesting_ perspective," Marcus said slowly. "But I need you to come with me."

"Or perhaps it is merely the ramblings of a shattered and nameless mind. Make of it what you will. For my part, I will follow you and say no more," the ghost said.

"That'll be a nice change of pace, harbour boy. I'm getting really tired of chatty ghosts," Neeshka said, her tail twitching in agitation. "The sooner we get out of this place, the better."

Marcus slipped an arm around the tiefling's waist. "I couldn't agree more, sweetheart. I think I've had my fill of rambling spirits as well. Let's get that Communion Tree open and get out of here."

* * *

Sergeant Jonson at last arrived back at Crossroads Keep with the entire population of West Harbour following. The trip from Fort Locke had been mostly uneventful, with Georg telling his tall tales the whole way.

"Here we are, Crossroad Keep," Jonson said as he passed through the main gates.

"I thought Marcus said it was little more than a pile of rubble?" Georg asked.

"Perhaps the lad has taken too much notice of your story telling," Tarmas replied.

Jonson chuckled. "Oh it _was_ a pile of rubble. Until the priestess, Serena, came up with the funds to allow the stonemason Veedle to do the work he needed to."

"Sounds to me as if there's a story there, Sergeant," Georg said, looking at him expectantly.

The dark skinned man grinned. "There is a story, but I'll let those better qualified than me tell it. I'm sure Serena would enjoy telling it to you," Jonson said. "Now let's see about getting everyone settled in before the captain gets back."

* * *

"You have returned a measure of peace to this place. For that, I am grateful," Balaur said, stopping the harbourman before he could leave the main complex. "My fellow spirits were in torment, and their pain found expression in the foul creatures that walked these halls. Thanks to you, their torment has abated, if only for a time." The ghost paused a moment, thinking. "However, should you defeat the Guardian, I believe that peace will settle over this place at last. Rest will be bittersweet for me. My undeath will end, but my books will crumble, even as my body turns to dust," he said, looking about the library. "For they are the last remaining lore of ancient Illefarn. In life, I tended to them, sheltered them, and even in death, I could not allow them to crumble as Illefarn did."

"Marcus my boy, perhaps now is not the best time, but it would be quite a waste to not try and rescue as many of the books as we can," Sand suggested, looking thoughtful.

"I don't see any reason why we can't do something, but we'd have to come back later, after we get more pressing matters out the way," Marcus replied.

"That'll do. As long as we try, that's all I can ask of you," Sand said.

Balaur smiled a little. "Then I shall await your hopeful return. In the meantime, take these tomes." He passed the harbourman three books. "I had nearly completed them at the time of my death. They hold much of the days of Illefarn within them. They are as much of my memory as I can scribe to words... and it is a vain hope, but perhaps the lessons of our fall may help prevent another," the lorekeeper explained.

"Thank you, Balaur. We'll endeavour to return, I promise," Marcus said before he turned to Zhjaeve. "So how do we find the fifth statue?"

"There is a song portal atop the hill in the centre of the ruins. The song portals were a way for the people of Illefarn to traverse their vast empire in the blink of an eye. It will take us to where the fifth statue is located," the zerth answered.

"A network of fixed teleportation portals? That's very powerful magic," Sand said, slightly awed. He knew it was possible, but no one had managed such a feat since the fall of the old empires of Illefarn, Netheril, and Imaskar.

* * *

They stepped through the song portal, but instead of finding themselves near the fifth and final statue, they were in the middle of a destroyed village that looked eerily familiar to Marcus, Neeshka, and Sand.

"Huh, what in the hells?" Khelgar asked, looking around. "Looks like a ruined village, but..." his voice trailed off.

Neeshka sniffed the air, making her wrinkle her nose. "Smells like demons... even a devil or two," she said wearily, and then frowned. "This place has been hit by legions from the Lower Planes."

"Know that these are not the Illefarn ruins we seek," Zhjaeve said, confused. "Is this your birth village?" she asked Marcus.

The harbourman nodded numbly. "It's West Harbour... or what's left of it, anyway," he replied softly.

Zhjaeve frowned in confusion. "Know that this was not our intended destination. Something is wrong." The zerth paused as if she were trying to feel the energy in the area. "We are close to where we were meant to be... Are there any ancient Illefarn structures near your birth village?" she asked Marcus. "If so, that is where we must go."

Marcus smiled weakly at the githzerai. "Yes there are, I've been there before. I know the way and they aren't far."

Zhjaeve nodded. "Then that is our true destination..." she frowned, "yet only something of great power could have turned away our arrival from the ruins, even if they are close by."

Neeshka rolled her eyes. "Something _more _powerful than teleporting around?" she remarked, mostly to herself. "_Great_."

"We should be on our guard. It is possible that whatever caused this disruption is still present," Zhjaeve advised. "Such disruption may be due to our enemy seeking us... or..." The zerth paused, listening to something. "Do you hear something? It is like the sound... of a child, wailing."

"I don't hear anything, Zhjaeve," Marcus replied.

"Wow, Z-girl, your hearing is way better than mine as I can't hear anything either," Neeshka said.

"And I definitely don't hear anything. Must be something else you're hearing... or whatever it is you gith do," Sand added with his usual sarcasm.

Zhjaeve remained unfazed. "It is like a vibration in the air, coming from somewhere nearby," she said, puzzled. "You should lead, you have the knowing of this place more than I," she told the harbourman. "Let us see where our path takes us... but no matter what, we must make our way to the ruins you spoke of."

As they walked through the ruined village, Neeshka couldn't help but notice the defeated look on her lover's face. _Well, some mind blowing sex isn't going to fix this, now is it? _she thought. _Though it'll get his mind off darker things for a while. We need to get back to the keep and soon,_ the tiefling decided. Neeshka found herself chuckling for some bizarre reason. _I bet Leldon is raging in the hells about now. Here I am, giving myself freely to the harbour boy, something I'd never give Leldon,_ she thought, looking across at her lover. _We love each other and it's not just the great sex, though it's kind of nice to find someone who likes what you can do with your tail, _the tiefling mused, giggling as she did so. _No, there's far more to our relationship, and that's why I can give myself to the harbour boy._

"What's gotten into you, Neesh?" Marcus asked, looking curiously at the tiefling.

"Oh sorry, I saw the look on your face and I've been thinking on how to cheer you up," Neeshka replied, her eyes glinting with desire. "Have to wait until we're back at the keep, though," she added.

Marcus laughed. "You're a scandalous tease, you know that, sweetheart?" he asked, pulling her into a hug. "I'm glad you're here, Neesh," the harbourman whispered. _She makes the pain bearable,_ he thought.

"I'm glad, too," the tiefling replied. "You never really said why you left here?" she asked.

"Apart from finding out about that first shard, the idea was that West Harbour would be safe once it was no longer here," Marcus explained. "That didn't exactly work, now did it?" he said.

"No, but you _did_ save me," Neeshka pointed out.

Marcus smiled slightly. "I guess I did. I've had nightmares about what could have happened if Khelgar and I had been a few minutes either way. Not pleasant, I can tell you," he said, stroking the tiefling's cheek. "I thank Torm everyday that I arrived when I did. I love you, Neesh." He backed that statement up by giving her a passionate kiss. Behind them, Sand and Khelgar looked at each other and rolled their eyes in unison. Both had faint smiles.

They hadn't walked much farther when Zhjaeve spoke up. "This is where the sound is coming from... the wailing of the child is strong here." She pointed to the large blackened scar. "What is this place?"

Marcus was about to answer when his vision blurred, and he could see all too clearly what had happened on the spot so long ago. A man, wearing a hooded cloak and wielding a whole gith silver sword, took a swing at what had to be the Illefarn Guardian, and as the sword stuck the creature, the blade shattered. As the pieces flew off in all directions, the harbourman turned to follow the path of one of the larger pieces. In the distance he could just make out two women. A chill went down the harbourman's spine as Marcus realised who they were, and that the child Zhjaeve had heard had been himself. Mercifully, Marcus was spared from seeing the shard's impact as his vision blurred again, coming back to the present.

"This was where the silver sword shattered..." Marcus said slowly. "And the child you could hear... that was me," he told Zhjaeve.

The zerth nodded. "There_ is_ a familiar sensation about it... it's not the sound. The vibration is in the air around it... almost metallic. It _is_ powerful. Very powerful. This place is a sacred place. Know that when we know more, we should return."

* * *

Tarmas walked through the Keep's grounds, muttering to himself. He had nothing better to do as Sand was away with Marcus, and he was staying clear of the sage. So far they'd been settled in their temporary accommodations while more permanent dwellings were built just outside the Keep's walls. Orlen and some of the other farmers had been introduced to Shandra, and they were soon busy planning on how to tackle the fields.

Tarmas snorted, thinking about Bevil, the Mossfeld boys, and some of the other militia joining the Greycloaks. He couldn't see Georg being happy, and he knew Retta Starling wasn't going to be pleased. Still, not his problem.

"I always knew that woman had nine lives. I wonder, has she used them all up yet?" Tarmas asked himself on seeing a very familiar figure. He wanted to know what Torio Claven, of all people, was doing here, considering she wasn't under lock and key.

* * *

"Well, these are the ruins that started this mess. This is where Bevil and I found the shard Daeghun had hidden, and I can tell you we didn't see anything like the statues of purification," Marcus said. "However, there are more ruins off over to the right. It may be there," he said, pointing into the gloom.

It didn't take them long to reach the second set of ruins, but as they approached, Neeshka shivered. "I've got a bad feeling about this... there's something... dark, shadowy almost."

"Something does feel wrong," Marcus agreed. "But it could be the fact that the door is no longer there that could be giving me that sinking feeling," he said, pointing to where the door should have been. It wasn't open; it simply wasn't there.

"Know that something is wrong, we should be on our guard," Zhjaeve said.

"State the obvious, why don't you," Khelgar muttered.

As they entered the small chamber, they all could see the statue of purification, but it was what was standing in front of the statue that gave them all pause, for there was something truly evil about the creature.

"What in the hells is that?" Neeshka asked in a whisper.

"It is a thrall of the King of Shadows, a shadow reaver," Zhjaeve said softly, for she knew they might not be powerful enough to defeat it.

In one swift motion the reaver beheaded the statue, rendering it useless. The reaver then turned slowly to face Marcus and his friends. It looked to be almost smiling, which, given the fact its face was little more than a bare skull, was quite a feat. "You have come far... for nothing," it gloated. "The statue's power is spent, _another_ has taken it. But it will not stop us."

"Another has undergone the Ritual of Purification? You speak lies," Zhjaeve replied angrily, something very unusual for her.

"But it does not matter... the thief has not completed the rest of the ritual, the parts _you_ bear. Once you are slain and the other statues cast down, none shall stand against us," the reaver said, explaining its plan.

"Then as long as the other one who completed the ritual lives, we have a chance. All we have to do is defeat you," Zhjaeve replied with far more confidence than she felt.

The reaver seemed to arch an eyebrow that wasn't there. "Ah, gith... zerai, you cannot stop me. Why the illithids used your people as _slaves_ is beyond me, it was a waste to you both," it taunted.

Zhjaeve smiled behind her veil, expecting such insults. "And why the King of Shadows would use _you_ for a similar purpose is not known to me, but the fact that you cannot break his grip tells of _your_ weakness," she said with disdain.

"Weakness? My power is more than enough to defeat you, more than enough to bring these ruins down upon you," the reaver cried in anger. "Even if you should wound me, I shall reform within the Vale of Merdelain, as strong as before. I _cannot_ be stopped."

Marcus snorted with contempt. "And maybe the killing blow will be enough that your body won't have a chance to make it back to Merdelain. Anything that exists can be slain or destroyed, no matter how powerful it is."

This seemed to give the reaver pause. "Hnnnh... no one has yet bested one of us... and none of us have suffered a wound from which we must be reborn," it said, its voice faltering.

"To place such faith in powers that have been untested caused the downfall of Illefarn as well," Zhjaeve reminded the reaver coldly.

"It does not matter. You are already defeated, you simply do not know it... but you _will_." the reaver gloated.

"Know that speaking words does not make them truth. Prove it... _thrall_," Zhjaeve said calmly, clearly baiting the reaver into attacking without thinking.

* * *

"I'm surprised you're not face down in some Luskan gutter, after all these years," Tarmas said.

Torio turned around, scowling. "What rock did you decide to crawl out from under, wizard?" she asked. "I thought you were dead, as did Garius."

"If your so called Master had been more thorough, he'd have known I wasn't dead. As for where I've been all these years, suffice to say I know a lot more about swamps than I ever wanted to," Tarmas replied.

Torio smiled thinly. "Garius is no longer my master and I have no ties to Luskan. Not that that matters much here. I am not very popular around this keep and with good reason, I think."

Tarmas nodded. "So you were doing Garius's dirty work in Neverwinter? Surprised you're not swinging from the end of a rope."

"I very nearly did," Torio admitted. "However, Captain Cole seems to think I'm more use alive than dead. Being here is better than a castle dungeon and a vast improvement on being dead."

Tarmas snorted. "The boy's delusional, that's what he is. Only he would give someone like you a second chance." The wizard smiled. "Glad he did, would have been such a waste otherwise."

* * *

"It... is done. But know that we have only bought time, not achieved victory. We have only driven it off... it will return, as it said. And there will be more." Zhjaeve sounded as tired as the others felt, for it had been no easy fight.

"_What?_" Neeshka cried. "There's going to be more of those _things? _Do you have any other good news you want to give us, Z-girl?" the tiefling asked.

"Know we must find the one the reaver spoke of... the one who completed the ritual. We will need their aid to defeat the King of Shadows," Zhjaeve said quietly, almost despairing, as it was going to be very hard.

"But that could be anyone!" Marcus cried. "We don't even know who that is." _Or do we?_ he thought. "It feels as if we've come all this way... for nothing."

"Nothing?" Zhjaeve said firmly, admonishing the harbourman slightly. "Know that we have completed four parts of the ritual, we have learned another holds the fifth, and most importantly, we know that our enemy fears our plans."

"I guess you're right, Zhjaeve... I just feel like we should be doing _something_," Marcus said with a sigh.

"Know that this road is at an end, but time may have opened other roads to us," Zhjaeve said, doing her best to reassure the harbourman. "There is hope, you must believe it. Know that we have two weapons against the King of Shadows. The ritual in all its parts, and a fully-forged sword of the githyanki. We will need the sword, no matter what transpires. Let us pursue that path, and perhaps the second path shall be revealed to us."

"This may sound silly, but shouldn't we look for whoever completed the fifth part of the ritual?" Neeshka asked.

"Whoever completed the ritual did so for a reason. And that reason means they will be searching for us," Zhjaeve replied. "Know that the intention of completing the ritual says more than it may seem. Whoever has done this, has done so to hurt the King of Shadows. And to do that, they will need a silver sword, just as we do." The zerth paused a moment. "In so doing, they have set foot upon a path that _must_ cross ours. And if we have a silver sword, the time of that intersection will come quickly, indeed. Ammon Jerro knew much of the githyanki silver swords. Finding his haven and recovering the knowledge of those swords is the only step we may take on this path now."

Marcus snapped his fingers. "Of course, that's it!" he cried. "Ammon Jerro is the one who completed the fifth part of the ritual, it has to be. I confronted him briefly in Neverwinter, and he was looking for the shards then..." The harbourman paused. "And possibly why he set his pet demonic horde on West Harbour... somehow, though finding his haven isn't going to be easy."

"Oh, the farm girl is going to love you, harbour boy," Neeshka said.

"We should return to Crossroad Keep, to the lorekeeper who was imprisoned there with me... Aldanon. He knows much of Neverwinter... and he may know more than we of where to find some trace of Ammon Jerro," Zhjaeve said.

Sand grimaced. "As much as I hate to admit it, the gith is correct. Aldanon will know the location of Jerro's haven, or at least where to start looking. That's if you can keep him on the subject for long enough."


	31. A mother revealed

"It looks as though the travellers have returned," Tarmas observed as he watched Marcus and the others enter the keep's courtyard. "Is that a githyanki with them?" the wizard asked with a frown.

"No, that's Zhjaeve, a githzerai cleric that Garius had captured," Torio replied. "He tortured her, trying to find out why she was here and if she knew anything of that infernal ritual he wanted to perform," she said with distaste. It wasn't the torture that had made Torio uneasy, but Garius's growing obsession with the ritual. "It would seem she has become the harbourman's willing ally in this." The former ambassador sounded amused. "What Garius could not get by force, Marcus seems to get by simply asking for it. Ironic, wouldn't you agree, wizard?"

Tarmas chuckled. "I think you will find that there was more to the gith helping Marcus than simply being asked," the wizard said. "But you are right, the lad doesn't need to resort to violence, unlike our former employer, may he rot in the hells."

Torio smiled slightly. "You never cared for Garius or his goals, did you?" she asked.

"No, I didn't," Tarmas confirmed. "He had the money and resources that allowed me to do the research I needed, but I wasn't fooled. I knew he'd take it for himself and try and have me killed, so I struck first as it were." The wizard smiled. "That's why no Luskan sent with me ever returned from Arvahn."

Torio looked mildly shocked. "That's evil of you," she said. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"One could call it evil," Tarmas grunted. "But it was necessary, though I took no joy in killing the poor saps that were merely doing what they were told. Some were killed by the monsters that called the ruins home. I made sure the survivors... didn't."

Torio nodded. "I think I understand, but does Marcus know?" she asked.

"He knows I've been to Arvahn and the lad isn't stupid, so no doubt he suspects that I've done things that are questionable," Tarmas replied. "He's never asked me about it and I doubt he ever will." The wizard looked sideways. "So just how did you end up here anyway?"

* * *

"I never thought I'd be so glad to see a half built keep," Marcus said as they walked through the keep's courtyard. "Hey look, Neesh, looks as though the plants you wanted from Dumal have arrived," he said, pointing to some wagons that were full of plants.

"Oh, cool," Neeshka cried. "Now I can get that barren bit of earth looking like a proper formal garden."

Alana froze on hearing her daughter's voice. It had been hard enough watching her walk into the keep snuggled up against Marcus. The sorceress was torn; did she approach Neeshka now and introduce herself, or did she wait? Alana decided she was better off waiting a while and just watching her daughter from a distance. She never noticed that Sand had broken away from Marcus and Neeshka and was walking over to her.

"Are you alright, my dear?" the moon elf asked.

Alana jumped. "Oh my, you startled me," she said, putting a hand over her heart. "Yes, yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking."

Sand nodded. "You're welcome, but I couldn't help but notice you were rather preoccupied before," the wizard observed.

Alana bit her bottom lip, and the moon elf was reminded of the times he'd seen Neeshka do the same. "You are one of Neeshka's friends, are you not?" she asked.

"I am indeed. My name is Sand and you are?" the moon elf asked, intrigued that the woman had specifically mentioned the tiefling.

"I'm Alana, I'm Neeshka's mother," the sorceress replied.

Sand had not been expecting _that_.

* * *

"Ah Captain, you've returned," Kana said as Marcus and Neeshka entered the keep, followed by Khelgar and Zhjaeve.

"There you are!" Daerred exclaimed happily. "There's Kana, my compatriots, and now, the Captain, eh? It's me... you know, Daerred?" he asked. "My fellows and I have been adventuring for some time."

"How could I possibly forget," Marcus muttered.

"You got my note about Port Llast, right?" Daerred asked. "Your Kana was right, you know. Dark deeds happening on the Luskan border. After that we took to the road and I found an old lady and rescued a cat. We each got an apple," he said with pride.

Neeshka didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she settled for shaking her head.

"Keep to the point, Daerred. Let's not take up any more of the Captain's time," Brother Maxil reminded his over exuberant companion.

"Right you are... should I ask him about rumours?" Daerred asked himself before shaking his head. "No, I'm sure the innkeep will have those. Do you know of any jobs for an adventurer?" he asked the harbourman.

"I still don't think these _adventurers _are ready to face anything more difficult than a sickly kobold," Kana put in.

Marcus let out a slow sigh. "One of these days I'm sure to regret this," he said to himself. "Have you heard anything about the King of Shadows?" he asked.

"The King of Shadows, why yes..." Brother Maxil started to answer.

"Juen, Candril... we have our quest!" Daerred barked. "To find out about the _King of Shadows_," he said over-dramatically. "Pack the saddlebags on the horses, there must be clues around. Adventure awaits!"

"Sorry, Captain, Daerred can be... Well, you know. Blessings to you all," Brother Maxil said somewhat sheepishly before he followed Daerred and the two women out of the keep.

"One of these days, Captain, you know you're going to get them all killed," Kana said, shaking her head. "Before you go, Captain, a moment of your time... We caught one of the Greycloaks, Sergeant Dobbson, accepting bribes from a caravan master," Kana explained, sounding very disappointed.

Marcus raised an eyebrow on seeing that it was Sergeant Dobbson from Fort Locke. "This is awkward, Sergeant," he said.

Dobbson just smiled ruefully and shrugged. "As you may know, Captain, merchants sometimes pay a little extra to speed along the process. It's almost standard practice among..."

"Not while wearing my cloak, sergeant!" Kana barked angrily, cutting Dobbson off. "Pardon... assuming the Captain agrees with me," she added hastily.

"Some of the trade laws are too restrictive. The caravan master wanted us to ease up on some of the older laws," Dobbson explained. "We're supposed to confiscate everything from Amn, technically, because some lord a century dead had a feather up his... well, you get the idea," he said with a slight smile. "The Greycloaks don't receive much of a stipend, and customs like this make it easier on us and the merchants."

"And are you _sure_ that's all he's trading in?" Kana asked, annoyed that Dobbson was defending his actions. "If you don't search for contraband, it could be anything. In my opinion, this sort of behaviour has to be eliminated to ensure order," she said to Marcus. "But the decision is yours, Captain."

The harbourman massaged his temples. He really needed to have a chat with Kana about her beloved rule book. "While not exactly legal, this sort of thing is customary... it's almost like a tip. Am I right, Sergeant?" he asked.

"That's exactly so, Captain," Dobbson replied. "If it were a bribe... well, we'd turn that down," he said honestly. " I _did_ try and explain to Lieutenant Kana that this is just how it's done," he added, taking a swipe at the younger officer.

"That's_ enough_, Dobbson," Kana replied, irritated.

"Kana," Marcus said with a sigh. "Dobbson did the right thing, as only a fool blindly follows laws, or orders come to that." He turned to Dobbson. "As this is a grey area, you're free to resume your duties."

"Thank you, Captain," Dobbson replied with a slight smirk as he saluted and left the keep, much to Kana's irritation.

"Kana, how long do you think that Sergeant Dobbson has been a Greycloak?" Marcus asked once the sergeant had left.

Kana opened her mouth, then closed it again, and after a few moments thought she answered, "Longer than I've been one certainly."

"Exactly," Marcus said. "Kana, you may well be my adjutant when I'm not here, but that doesn't mean not listening to what others have to tell you. A sign of a good officer, even a good leader, is that they listen to what those under them have to say, especially if they have more experience than you," the harbourman explained. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

Kana nodded. "Yes Captain, I think I understand."

"Good, and what I said about blindly following laws also applies to that rule book you love so much. Sometimes in the real world, the rules don't work and you have to find something that does," Marcus said.

* * *

"Milady, surely you are not considering travelling to Crossroad Keep?" Parker asked, slightly worried about his mistress's safety.

"And why not?" Lady Alicia Grey replied. "I haven't seen my son in months, and I suspect it will be quite awhile before I do so I shall visit him while I have the chance."

"Very well, milady, but please be careful. Even with the new patrols, the area around the keep is still far from safe," Parker said, resigned to his mistress's decision.

"You worry too much, Parker," Lady Grey said with an amused smile. "I'm not as defenceless as I may look. Besides, Mira and Niles will be with me. They were not employed solely because they are excellent at their jobs, as well you know," she reminded her butler. All of the Grey's house staff were unusual in that they were very good at their given domestic professions, but they also possessed unusual secondary skills. Mira was an excellent archer while Niles was good with a pair of swords, and Parker had something of a past as a lock breaker. This fact wasn't commonly known beyond the Grey household. "But we will not be seeking out bandits on purpose, so rest easy."

"As milady wishes," Parker replied. "I shall inform Mira and Niles that you are ready to leave."

* * *

"Ah, Marcus, it's good to finally catch up with you," Casavir said as he met the harbourman and Neeshka near their room. "Captain Ballard and I need to talk to you in the war room."

_Drat, there goes stealing a few hours with Neesh and her idea of a diversion_, Marcus thought. "Oh, what's wrong, Casavir?" he asked, frowning.

"Nothing too serious, but while you are here you should be made aware of what has been going on in your absence," the paladin replied.

"You're on your own, harbour boy. You know what I think of meetings like that," Neeshka said, making a face. "I'll go make a start on planting out the formal garden, after I get changed out of my armour."

"Alright, Neesh, I'll catch up with you later and see how you're getting on," the harbourman said as the tiefling disappeared into their room to get changed into something more suited to playing in the dirt.

* * *

"Vengaul, you're out of your mind," Kari said, folding her arms. "Kana's going to have a fit."

The old swashbuckler's eyes sparkled. "That, my dear Kari, is the whole idea. It's high time I visited the lad and Neeshka at their rock pile Nasher oh so thoughtfully gave them," he said. "It's a shame I don't have anything to take. Marcus wouldn't turn down some ballistas or the like, but it's going to take me awhile to re-establish my old connections." Vengaul gave the former spymaster a very roguish grin.

Kari chuckled. "You don't change, do you, you old scoundrel," she said. "Whatever happens, don't change, Vengaul. Otherwise Neverwinter would get really boring."

"My dear, this is one leopard that's far too old to change his spots," the swashbuckler replied with a broad grin.

* * *

"You are Neeshka's mother," Sand repeated. "That explains why you would be asking after her." The wizard cocked his head to one side. "It also means you left her in the care of Helm's Hold." Sand's voice was not accusing. He was simply stating a fact.

Alana nodded. "I did. I thought I was doing the right thing for my baby girl. How wrong I've been," she said sadly.

"Alana my dear, you must not blame yourself for other people's short sightedness and foolishness. That is no way to live," Sand said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Perhaps not, but it's a mother's guilt, knowing you had the power and did nothing," Alana replied.

"You love your daughter very much," Sand observed. "Despite leaving her with Dumal."

Alana nodded. "Yes, I love my baby girl. I gave her up in the hopes she would have a better life. The life of an adventurer is not suited to a child. I did think about finding a nice tower somewhere where I could live, work, and raise my child, but that proved difficult."

"Because Neeshka is a tiefling," Sand said. Alana only nodded. "So what do you wish to do now, my dear?" the moon elf asked.

Alana sighed. "I want to see my baby girl, but I'm unsure how that will go. I'm probably not even a memory anymore. I keep asking myself why I've left it so long and still have no answer."

Sand extended his arm. "Come, Alana my dear, we shall seek Neeshka out together," he said as they started to walk through the keep's grounds. "I am her mentor in the arcane arts, and I can tell you that ever since she learned of your existence, it has been her hope that she would be able to one day find you," the wizard explained. "Neeshka will have many questions. Some of them no doubt will be heated, but whatever happens, keep this in mind: She longs to know her parents."

* * *

"So what's been happening while I've been running about old ruins and what not?" Marcus asked as he sat down at the table in the war room along with Casavir and Ballard.

"Establishing the new patrols has taken up a good deal of our time," Ballard said. "But it seems you attract unwanted attention even when you're not here, Captain."

"It seems you slew a bandit named Jered Widowmaker just outside of Fort Locke," Casavir took up the story, "and his half brother Doman the Ogre was out for revenge."

"That was until we laid an ambush for him and his men," Ballard said with a grin. "He went down like wheat at harvest time. I took his weapon as a trophy," he said, pointing at a nasty looking mace that was hung on the wall.

"Charming fellow. Glad you made his acquaintance," Marcus remarked, deadpan. "Anything else?"

"We had to send an escort with the tax collectors," Ballard said. "Fortunately the low taxes seemed to stop most of the complaints, and many of the farmers understood the necessity even if they didn't care for it much. We got lucky."

"There was also a small tribe of bugbears that we persuaded to move elsewhere," Casavir informed the harbourman. "However, to our south is the Mere of Dead Men, which is becoming an increasingly dangerous place. Worse still, there have been sightings of small groups of undead," the paladin said. "This growing threat is making everyone uneasy, and I feel certain that undead are being sent to scout our defences. If we don't do something, people may well start to lose hope."

"They aren't_ directly_ threatening us, but if they sap our will to defend our lands, then they will have already won," Ballard spoke up. "It may be difficult to find them, but if we eliminate their scouts, it will make our people feel more secure," he advised the harbourman.

Marcus sighed as he gave the matter some thought. "Well, Casavir, you know far more about undead than I do, so do you mind if I leave this matter in your more than capable hands? The undead have to be eliminated."

The paladin nodded. "I will do my best, my friend."

"That's all anyone can ask, Casavir," Marcus replied as he stood up. "Now I'm off to find Neesh and see how she's getting on with her plants."

* * *

"So you have been tutoring my baby girl on how to handle her powers?" Alana asked the moon elf as they made their way through the interior of the Keep.

"Yes," Sand replied. "And I have to say I haven't had so much fun in many years. Neeshka has been a joy to teach." He looked over at the sorceress. "You should be proud of her, Alana, for she is a natural just like her mother."

Alana found herself blushing. "I am. I'm also grateful that Neeshka's alive, happy, healthy, and loved."

The moon elf chuckled. "Yes she's certainly that, thanks to Marcus," he said. "Through here, my dear." He directed them through into what would be the formal garden. At the moment, however, it was little more than a patch of bare earth with many plants laid out ready for planting. At the far end, they could see the tiefling working away with the able assistance of a pair of Greycloaks who Sand knew to be Guff and Weatherly.

"Are you ready, Alana?" the wizard asked.

"As I'll ever be," the sorceress replied as they made their way towards Neeshka.

* * *

Neeshka looked up from the rose bush she was currently planting at the sound of footsteps. She was surprised to see Sand, and even more surprised that he had an attractive middle aged human woman on his arm. "Sand, what brings you out here?" she asked. "And who's the girlfriend? More to the point, where have you kept her hidden all this time?" Neeshka said, teasing the moon elf.

Sand just smiled. "You haven't changed, I see, Neeshka my dear, still no respect for your mentor," the wizard replied, also teasing. "Alana, I think this is where you should introduce yourself," he said to the woman on his arm.

Alana nodded and took a step towards the tiefling. "Hello, Neeshka, I'm your mother."


	32. Neeshka reacts

"The merchant trade along the roads is growing, Captain. We've attracted the attention of several merchant costers. Three of them want to set up a caravan outpost in our Keep," Kana said. "Each of them says it's vital if we wish trade to expand. They are the Forgotten Lords, the Circle of Friends, and the Fated Winds. I... I know nothing about them."

Marcus groaned inwardly as he didn't really want to deal with this now. All he wanted to do was go and see Neeshka, as he'd felt her shock at something. He wanted to find out what was happening with his beloved tiefling, yet he knew he couldn't abandon his duties, as much as he may have wanted to.

"You are not a merchant, Kana, so there is no reason for you to know of them," Calindra said. "May I assist, Captain?" she asked. "In Athkatla these matters are as common as breathing the air. I am well-versed in them."

"Alright, Calindra, tell me what you can about these costers," Marcus replied, trying not to sound as distracted as he felt.

"The Forgotten Lords are new but have displayed excellent trading skills. They are ambitious and their leaders knowledgeable. They would make wise allies," Calindra suggested. "The Circle of Friends has traded in the North, and they seem more concerned with making strong relationships and less with making coin," she said with some disdain. "Choosing them would result in the least gold." Calindra paused a moment. "As for the Fated Winds coster... unless you want to deal with the allies of the Zhentarim, you should stay clear. They could fill your coffers with gold... but at what cost?" She was clearly warning the harbourman against the Fated Winds.

"Do you wish to accept any of their offers, Captain?" Kana asked.

Marcus paced around the great hall, thinking. "Well the Forgotten Lords coster is knowledgeable and cunning, from what I can recall of what I've heard," he said. "Also, they are not above questionable trades." _Which should keep Uncus and Neesh happy,_ he thought with a smile. "So we will side with them."

"I will send them your reply, Captain. Also, the regular patrolling of the surrounding lands has attracted the attention of a former bailiff named Ziffer," Kana said, indicating the man.

"Well met, Captain, well met. Your Kana here is right," Ziffer said with far too much enthusiasm for Marcus's tastes. "I've been looking to start a small village and what you've done here... well, I think the land will flourish with you in charge."

The harbourman raised his hand. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I have other pressing matters I need to see to, so if you'll both excuse me? I'll try and be back as soon as I can. I'm sure Lieutenant Kana can look after you in the meantime." With that, Marcus almost ran out the keep to where the formal garden would be.

"Hmph, how do you like that?" Ziffer said. "Was it something I said, do you think?" he asked.

* * *

Neeshka stood slowly, blinking rapidly, trying to get over the shock she felt. Had she heard the woman correctly? Had she just said that she was her mother? "Is this meant to be some sort of sick joke, Sand?" she asked, not willing or even wanting to believe what she'd been told.

"This is no joke, Neeshka," Sand replied solemnly, his expression deadly serious.

Alana's face fell and her shoulders slumped. She had known this reunion would not be an easy one, but things were already looking grim.

_No, this isn't a joke,_ the tiefling thought on seeing the woman's reaction. _So what in the nine hells does dear mother want?_ Neeshka wondered, her anger and suspicion beginning to bubble away. "Guff, Weatherly, I won't been needing your help for a while. You're dismissed and don't say _anything_ to_ anyone_," the tiefling said calmly. Far too calmly for Sand's liking, which meant Neeshka's volatile temper was going to make an appearance.

"As you say, milady," Guff said as both Greycloaks snapped off a salute and made a very swift exit.

"Why now, _mother_?" Neeshka asked after the Greycloaks had left, making the word sound more of an insult. _Just when I have everything I could ever dream of right in the palm of my hand_, she thought bitterly. _That's if Marcus doesn't come to his senses, and decides he wants nothing to do with me. _This was something she still feared, despite the harbourman's words to the contrary and their very active sex life. "If that's who you truly are," the tiefling said, full of suspicion. "What do you want from me now, huh? Gold? Influence with Lord Nasher, maybe?" she asked angrily, her eyes blazing a bright red.

Alana felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She knew that this wasn't going to be easy, but she hadn't expected to encounter this much anger and suspicion, though perhaps she shouldn't have been so surprised. _Did I do the right thing in coming here?_ Alana asked herself. "All I want is to know my baby girl," the sorceress said softly.

The tiefling snorted. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm all grown up," Neeshka snarled. _In more ways than one, _she thought, suppressing the smile at remembering the nights spent with her harbour boy.

* * *

Marcus walked along the garden, a worried expression on his face. He could feel the anger rolling off of Neeshka in waves. _What's gotten her like this?_ he wondered. The only other two people present were Sand and a woman he didn't recognise.

"Neesh, sweetheart, what's the matter?" he asked as he came to stand next to the distraught tiefling.

Neeshka's reaction to the harbourman's presence was immediate. She all but leapt into his arms, wrapping her own around him and holding him tightly, burying her head in his shoulder. _Thank the gods for the harbour boy,_ the tiefling thought, _my steady rock_. She felt a little calmer as Marcus encircled her in his arms.

Alana was shocked at the stab of jealousy she felt at watching Neeshka seek comfort in her lover's arms. _You have no reason to be jealous,_ the sorceress told herself. _Where were you when your daughter needed you? You gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, but some mother you turned out to be._ Alana knew she shouldn't be jealous but grateful that her baby girl had found someone special.

"Sand, what in the hells is going on?" Marcus asked, looking over at the moon elf.

"She claims to be my mother," Neeshka murmured, nodding towards the unknown woman.

"Your... mother?" Marcus repeated slowly. _No wonder Neesh doesn't know which way is up, _he thought. _I'd be much the same if Esmerelle showed up to say hello._ "Is this true?" he asked the woman.

Alana nodded. "Yes, it's true. I _am_ Neeshka's mother. My name is Alana," she said.

"Then prove it," Neeshka spoke up. "Prove to me that you are who you say you are, _mother_," she challenged, still highly suspicious of the woman and her motives.

_This is not going to be easy_, Alana thought sadly. "You were six months old when I took you to Helm's Hold. There I spoke with Dumal, its founder, and he promised me that he would take good care of you and give you a stable life. Something I could not do, as I was an adventurer and that's no life for a child to be subjected to," the sorceress explained. "If I had known what was to happen, I would have risked keeping you with me."

"You don't know what my life was like, or what happened to me! You weren't even _there_!" Neeshka screamed, venting her anger and frustration.

"No, no, I wasn't," Alana admitted. "Something I shall regret for the rest of my days. But I do know what happened, for I went to the Hold not long ago, looking for you. Dumal told me what had happened to you, what had become of you and where I could find you." The sorceress paused a moment. "And before you ask, Neeshka, why am I here now and not sooner, that is something I've asked myself many times, and I still do not have an answer. I don't think I ever will."

Neeshka looked over at her mother, or the woman who claimed to be, at the mention of Dumal's name. "Dumal told you about me and where to find me?" she asked, calmer. Despite what had happened, she still liked and trusted Dumal, so maybe Alana was really who she said she was. That was still a lot for the tiefling to take in.

"Yes, he did. He even told me you gave him a telling off," Alana replied with a slight smile. "But when he told me about the enchantment, that made me ill. How could those I'd entrusted my baby girl to do such a horrible thing?" the sorceress asked, trying to hold back tears. "Had I really been so blind as to make such a grave mistake?"

"Alana my dear, you really should stop blaming yourself. What's done is done," Sand spoke up.

Neeshka looked thoughtful. "What do you think, harbour boy?" she asked.

"You're asking _me_?" Marcus replied, surprised.

"Yes, I trust and love you," the tiefling said. "What do you think?"

Marcus considered his words carefully as he looked over at Alana, who seemed to be pleading with him without speaking. "I think you should give Alana the benefit of the doubt, for now. You've told me a number of times you've wanted to know more about your parents. Seems to me you're going to get that chance."

"Are you sure about this, harbour boy?" Neeshka asked, uncertain. "I mean, we don't know why she's really here." The tiefling's suspicion wouldn't be laid to rest so easily.

Alana sighed at that. "I'm here to see my baby girl, even if she is all grown up. To try and make up for not being there when I should have been, and say sorry for being the worst mother in history," she said.

"See? That's not so bad, is it?" Marcus asked. "Don't forget that Guff and Weatherly have all but appointed themselves your personal escort when we're at the keep." The harbourman lowered his voice so only Neeshka could hear. "And I'm curious, if Alana is indeed your mother, what kind of mother-in-law I might be in for," he said, eyes sparkling.

Despite her mood, Neeshka blushed rosily at the implications of that. "Oh alright, you've convinced me," she said, looking towards Alana. "I guess you can stay for a while, and see how it works out... mother." The tiefling had a hint of hope in her voice as she spoke.

Alana's expression brightened at this, for it was a start and all she could realistically hope for.

Someone cleared their throat politely to get their attention. Marcus looked over his shoulder and suppressed a groan on seeing Lieutenant Kana. "Yes, Lieutenant, what is it?" he asked.

"Sorry to intrude, Captain, milady," Kana replied, "But Lady Grey has just arrived, as has another _person,_ both wishing to see you."

Marcus raised an eyebrow at the way Kana had said 'person'. "This other person wasn't dressed in a rather over the top red and blue uniform, by any chance?" he asked. Kana's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open in surprise. "I'll take that as a_ yes,_ Lieutenant," the harbourman said with a chuckle. "Tell Vengaul and Lady Grey we'll be there in a few minutes."

Kana snapped off a salute before she disappeared inside the keep.

"Can you imagine Kana coming face to face with the old scoundrel?" Neeshka asked, giggling. "I would so loved to have seen _that_."

Marcus was pleased to see his tiefling not being so intense. "Yes, and she doesn't know the best part, _yet._ Now that's sure to bring the keep down."

Neeshka was laughing now. "Oh gods, yes. I want to be there for that little revelation," she declared.

"You will be, sweetheart. Come on, let's go greet our guests," Marcus said as he led Neeshka back towards the keep.

Sand smiled, satisfied at the outcome. "Come, Alana, my dear," he said, offering the sorceress his arm again. "You'll get to see your daughter at her best instead of her worst," he told her.

* * *

"Captain, Ziffer wants us to sign a village charter allowing him to start a community here," Kana reminded Marcus almost as soon as he stepped within the keep "Even though you are just a squire, Lord Nasher has left the matter in your hands," she told him.

The harbourman sighed heavily._ Of all the times to be saddled with running a keep, _he thought darkly. "Very well, Kana, bring Ziffer here and we'll get it out the way," he said before turning to Neeshka. "Be thankful you don't need to deal with this sort of thing yet, sweetheart. Looks as though you'll be playing hostess on your own for a little while."

"I can do that, no problem," Neeshka replied. "Come on, you two," she said to Sand and Alana as she led them away to the great hall.

By this time Kana had returned with Ziffer. "Can either of you tell me more about the town charter?" Marcus asked. He could remember some things about village charters, but not all.

"I fear I am _not_ the best equipped to answer that, but..." Kana said apologetically.

"A charter determines what duty is owed by the village-folk and what duty is owed by the lord." Ziffer then realised the mistake he'd just made. "Well... errr... if you were a lord... duties owed by you is what I mean," he said, doing his best to correct the error. "Regardless, you get to carry out the Lord's Tax and we get your protection. I wouldn't have even come here if you hadn't made clear that you mean to make your lands a better place."

"Ziffer's accounting is correct, Captain," Kana said, hating the fact she'd been cut off _again_.

"Alright, show me the charter," Marcus said, wanting to get this out the way as quickly as he could.

"Certainly, Captain certainly!" Ziffer replied with far too much enthusiasm as he handed the parchment over.

The harbourman looked over the document. From what he could tell, it was pretty standard, though the only questionable provision he found was that they only permitted tithes at Greengrass and Highharvesttide. The other thing that struck Marcus was that there were certain provisions he could add that would result in more revenue for the Keep, something he knew he needed. The main one that came to mind was tithing the use of the miller's wheel, which was often sought after by landed knights and lords. For some reason, the harbourman found the thought of charging Sir Nevalle for the use of a miller's wheel endlessly amusing.

Marcus looked up. "You do realise that Lord Nasher tithes the peasants more than twice a year now," he said to Ziffer.

"Aye, that he does," Ziffer agreed. "But we're just starting. We have no fields ploughed and no crops to sell at market."

"May I remind you that we need regular taxes to support the Greycloaks, the_ same_ ones that _will _be protecting_ your_ lands," Marcus pointed out.

"I see your point, Captain," Ziffer said after some thought. "People say you are brave. I think they should mention your wisdom more often, too. We'll change to agree to the Lord's tax schedule."

_So glad you agree,_ the harbourman thought sarcastically. "I'd also like to add some clauses to the charter. Especially about the use of the miller's wheel," Marcus said pleasantly.

"But the charter was carefully thought out," ZIffer replied, alarmed. "Surely you don't mean to change important provisions..."

* * *

Lady Grey and Vengaul Bloodsail were chatting amicably, waiting for their hosts to arrive, when they both saw Neeshka enter the great hall.

"Speak of the devil," Vengaul said with a smirk, "and she's sure to appear."

Alicia groaned. "That's a true stinker, Vengaul," she replied.

"I admit it's pretty bad," the sailor agreed. "It's good to see you, Neeshka, child," he said, giving the tiefling a hug.

"And it's good to see as well, you old pirate," Neeshka replied, smiling happily.

"Now, Neeshka, how many times have I told you I'm not a pirate but a swashbuckler?" Vengaul said, waggling his finger at her.

The tiefling just laughed at that. "You haven't changed, have you, you old scoundrel?"

"No, too old for that," Vengaul admitted.

"Welcome to Crossroad Keep, Lady Alicia," Neeshka said formally to Lady Grey.

"My, aren't we all formal, Neeshka," Alicia replied. "It's good to practice for when you have guests that do really need impressing. As lady of this keep, first impressions count," she told the tiefling "Speaking of which, where's that delightful harbour boy of yours?"

Neeshka did her best not to blush at Alicia using her pet name for Marcus. "Marcus has some keep business he had to see to," she said, resisting the urge to make a face. "He should be along in a few minutes, hopefully, and sends his apologies for not being here."

Alicia nodded her understanding. "Yes, running an estate is far from being all dinner parties and grand balls," she said. "So where's that son of mine?"

"As far as I know, he's somewhere within the keep," Neeshka replied. "Guff!" she called.

Almost at once the Greycloak was at the tiefling's side. "Yes, milady?" he asked.

"Guff, see if you can find Casavir, I mean Lord Grey, and whatever you do, don't tell him his mother is here," Neeshka said. "Just bring him to great hall."

The Greycloak nodded before he left the great hall in search of the paladin.

"I still say I'm not going to get used to being called milady anytime soon," the tiefling muttered.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Neeshka," Alicia said. "It will become natural soon enough. Although if Marcus ever becomes knighted, you'll be able to be addressed as Lady Neeshka," Lady Grey explained. "But that's after he puts a ring on your finger."

Neeshka blushed. "Yeah, the harbour boy keeps hinting that he wants to marry me. _Me_, is he out of his mind?" she asked, still not believing that she could be that lucky.

Vengaul grinned. "Neeshka, child, I don't think that my son is out of his mind at all. He knows exactly who he wants and I pity anyone who gets in his way, saying that he can't marry you," he said. "Marcus would tell them in typical Bloodsail style where in the hells to go," the swashbuckler declared.

* * *

Alana had been watching the proceedings in quiet amazement. "My baby girl is really all grown up," she murmured. "Lady of a keep, I'd have never thought to see something like this."

"Neeshka has changed quite a bit since I first met her and Marcus," Sand observed. "She has become far more responsible, as befits a lady of her station, for she is not only Lord Nasher's new spymaster, but also the Lady of Crossroad Keep."

Alana looked over at the moon elf. "Call me dense, but I'm still baffled by the fact that my baby girl is lady of this keep."

"The answer is surprisingly simple, Alana, my dear," Sand replied. "Marcus and Neeshka have never hidden their relationship, nor have they advertised the fact," the wizard explained. "A good number of the Greycloaks here have encountered them prior to Marcus's appointment as Captain of this keep, so all accept it as given that Neeshka is lady of the keep, even if that isn't officially so."

Alana smiled. "Well, I hope that Marcus makes it official and soon."

"I believe that's his long term plan," Sand confirmed. "Alana, would you like to come to one of Neeshka's lessons?" he asked. "I'm sure I could talk her into the idea, and it will be good for you to see how she's progressing. It might also help Neeshka to see your skills as a sorceress, to see where her power comes from."

The sorceress couldn't hide her surprise. "Are you sure, Sand? I wouldn't want to intrude," she said.

"I asked, did I not?" the moon elf replied. "Then the matter is settled."

* * *

"Well, I suppose we can change it at that," Ziffer conceded. "You are a shrewd one, Captain, hmph! I'll concede your terms, even the Lord's due at the miller's wheel."

"The only thing remaining, Captain, is whether you'll sign their charter and allow the village to form on our lands," Kana said.

"You seriously don't think I've gone through all this not to sign it, Lieutenant?" Marcus asked as he took a quill pen and signed his name in the appropriate place on the charter.

"Ahh, you won't regret this, Captain!" Ziffer said jubilantly. "If any of your patrols are near the village, they can expect a warm welcome, and you, too!" he said as he left the keep.

Before Kana could say anything else, Marcus turned to her. "Lieutenant Kana, unless Lord Nasher himself informs you he's coming for a visit, I _do not _want to be disturbed until further notice, understood?"

"Yes, Captain!" Kana replied.

"Good, now come with me. There's someone who I think you should be introduced to," Marcus said with a mischievous smile.


	33. Family introductions

"Did you just say that Marcus is your son, Vengaul?" Lady Alicia asked, an eyebrow raised.

The swashbuckler smiled. "Did I? Oh well, looks like I stole the boy's thunder on that piece of news, but I don't think that Lieutenant Kana knows," he said with a devilish grin.

Neeshka giggled. "No, she doesn't, and I think Marcus is going to take great delight in telling her," the tiefling said as she saw both Marcus and Kana enter the great hall. "Here they come. This should be _fun_," she said, her eyes sparkling.

Alana looked a bit bewildered. "My baby girl's all but betrothed to a _Bloodsail?_" she asked, unsure what to think.

The tiefling suddenly felt very self-conscious, as Neeshka had more or less forgotten about her mother after seeing Vengaul and Lady Grey again. "Um, Vengaul, Lady Alicia, there's someone I've forgotten to introduce," she said, beckoning Alana over. "This is my mother, Alana." Neeshka's introduction was tentative but hopeful.

Vengaul bowed with a flourish and kissed Alana on the back of the hand, making the sorceress blush. "Pleased to meet you, dear lady," he said. "As long as I've known young Neeshka, she has often wondered about who her parents were. It pleases me that she has found at least one of them."

"Thank you. I only wish I had sought out my baby girl much sooner," Alana replied, the sadness in her eyes plain for all to see.

"Mom, I'm _not_ a baby," Neeshka complained.

"Oh, I know that, Neeshka," Alana replied, smiling at the tiefling's use of the word 'mom'. "But to me you'll always be my baby girl, as that's what you were the last time I saw you."

"I hope we're not interrupting?" Marcus asked as he and Kana arrived.

"No, Marcus," Lady Alicia said. "Your Neeshka was just introducing her mother to us." She gestured towards Alana.

The harbourman just nodded at this, whereas Kana did a double take. She recognised the woman as the one she had seen about the Keep the past few days. Kana felt a headache coming on, and let out a sigh.

"It's good to see you again, Lady Alicia," Marcus said to Lady Grey, before he turned to Vengaul. "And father gets around to visiting me at the new abode at last, I see," the harbourman said, amused.

"Well son, I figured you'd had enough time to get settled in, so I thought it was time I dropped by," the sailor replied, giving Marcus a hug which was returned.

There was a soft thudding sound, and everyone turned to see that Lieutenant Kana had fainted.

"Huh, wasn't expecting that sort of reaction," Marcus said, rubbing his beard as he looked down at the unconscious woman.

* * *

Malin paid the bartender at the Alliance Arms Inn for two mugs of ale before she walked back to her chair by the fire, all the while pondering how crazy her life had become. For the half-elf ranger, the craziness had started the day Bishop had slithered his way into the common room of the Inn and started belittling her. Next thing they both knew Bishop was almost flat on his back, nursing a broken jaw and wounded pride, with one very angry tiefling woman verbally ripping into him. That had given Malin a nice warm feeling.

But the craziest thing was yet to come, as some months later Bishop had strolled into the inn, seemingly without a care in world. The half-elf could recall it like it was yesterday.

_Malin looked up, truly surprised as Bishop slipped into the seat next to her. "You're back again? Didn't you learn from last time?" she asked._

_"Gee, it's so good to see you, too, girl of the wood," Bishop replied. "In case you hadn't noticed, Neeshka's nowhere in sight."_

_"Aw, what's the matter?" Malin asked. "Did the big, bad ranger get his big, tough man feelings hurt by the petite tiefling?"_

_Bishop just snorted in response. "Yeah, right."_

_"So just why are you here, Bishop?" the half-elf asked. "I thought you were still with that harbourman and his friends."_

_"I'm not with them anymore, girl of the wood. I thought that much was obvious even to you," Bishop replied snidely. _

_Malin rolled her eyes. "Okay, so why are you here as opposed to anywhere else?"_

_"Because I thought you'd miss my rugged good looks, Malin, dear?" Bishop said flippantly."And we aren't that far from the Luskan border, so no doubt Haeremos will need the services of a pair of good rangers."_

_The half-elf gave a snort of derision. "In your dreams, Bishop," Malin said. "Though you are one of the best rangers I've known, even if you are a complete and total pain in the ass." The half-elf chose not to call Bishop on his remark about good rangers._

"Hey, girl of the wood, you got those drinks yet? I'm dying of thirst over here!" Bishop called, bringing Malin back to the present.

* * *

"If I didn't know any better, my boy, I'd say you're having far too much fun at the Lieutenant's expense," Sand observed.

"Perhaps I am a little at that, but she's rather intense," Marcus replied as he knelt next to Kana.

"Marcus, what's happened to the Lieutenant?" Casavir asked as he arrived with Guff.

The harbourman looked up and smiled, suspecting that the paladin had been lured here without being told about the presence of his mother. "It seems the combined news about Neesh's mother and my father was just a bit much for the good Lieutenant," Marcus said, not missing the look of surprise that crossed the paladin's face.

Casavir by this time had turned to the tiefling. "You've managed to find your mother, Neeshka?" he asked.

"No, more like mom managed to find me," the tiefling replied. "This is my mother, Alana," Neeshka said, introducing the sorceress with much more confidence.

"It's an honour to meet you, my lady," Casvair said with a deep formal bow.

Alana coloured. "I'm no one special, my lord," the sorceress replied, aware of Casavir's title.

"That's not true, Alana." Marcus spoke up from where he knelt next to Kana. "You're Neeshka's mother, so that makes you someone very special. Without you I wouldn't have my Neesh," he said, looking fondly at the tiefling.

Both women blushed. "Aw, behave you!" Neeshka cried.

"It's true!" the harbourman protested.

* * *

"You're brooding again, Bishop," Malin said as she handed the ranger a mug of ale and sat across from him in front of the roaring fire. "What is it this time?" she asked.

"Thanks," Bishop replied testily. "Why should I be brooding about _anything_, girl of the wood?" he shot back.

"Fine, be like that, then," the half-elf said, leaning back in her chair. "You've changed since you came back to Port Llast. Sure, you're still an ass, but an ass with a purpose," Malin observed. "If I didn't know any better I'd say your time with that harbourman, what was his name, Marcus, has been rubbing off on you."

Bishop looked at Malin from over the top of his mug of ale. "You've got a pretty dammed good imagination, you know that, Malin?"

"Have I?" the half-elf asked. "Maybe so, but you're not so much of an ass as you used to be, and I'm not the only one who's noticed it. Nya the herbalist isn't afraid to ask you for help in locating the plants she needs, so that's saying a lot, as the poor woman was terrified of even talking to you," Malin pointed out. "Your time with Marcus, it's changed you, Bishop. You may not want to admit it, but it has," she said with a smile. "I actually like the new Bishop who doesn't have his head up his ass as far as he used to." Malin leaned back, looking at Bishop through half closed eyes. "If it keeps up, I might have to rethink those rugged good looks you keep bragging about."

Bishop snorted. "Yeah, right," he muttered. "You've got one overactive imagination, Malin." There was no way he was going to admit that the half-elf was even remotely right. Truth was she was dead on and that really unnerved Bishop. "So you like what you see, huh? I'll keep that in mind," he said with a seductive grin. "So is there a point to all this, Malin dear?"

* * *

"My lord?" Casavir repeated, realising what Alana had called him. "That means..." he said, looking around until he came face to face with his smiling mother.

"Now, Casavir, did you really think you'd escape your mother's watchful eye here?" Lady Alicia asked, amused by her son's sudden lack of speech.

Fortunately for the paladin, Kana at last regained her senses. "Ugh, what happened?" the Lieutenant asked as she sat up.

"It seems all the introductions were a bit much for you, Kana," Marcus said with a slight smile.

Kana looked puzzled and then she remembered. "Oh dear, Captain, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, scrambling to her feet.

"Don't worry, Kana. Perhaps I should have warned you beforehand," Marcus replied. "It's nice to know you're as human as the rest of us."

"Mother, just why are you here now?" Casavir asked, regaining the power of his voice.

Lady Alicia looked almost offended. "Can't I came and visit my only son?" she asked.

"No, mother, you do not travel this far from Neverwinter without a very good reason," the paladin replied, folding his arms.

Before Lady Grey could answer, Zhjaeve entered the great hall, walking with great purpose towards Marcus. "Kalach-Cha, know it is past time to find Ammon Jerro's Haven."

The harbourman sighed. "Just when things were becoming normal," he muttered. "Alright Zhjaeve, that means we'd better go and find Shandra, then talk to the sage. Coming, Neesh, Sand?" he asked.

"Where you go, I go," Neeshka said.

"Right behind you, my boy," Sand added.

"And I have to organise the men for that mission," Casavir said, remembering about finding the undead scouts as he followed Marcus out of the great hall.

"Damn the man, he's done it again," Lady Alicia muttered.

* * *

"Are you all right? You look a little lost, Shandra," Marcus asked as he Neeshka, Sand and Zhjaeve walked up to where she was working.

"Yes, I suppose I am," Shandra admitted. "I'm still trying to figure out what's going on. But don't worry, I'll try to keep up, so don't trouble yourself," the farm girl replied.

"Come on, Shandra, if you've any questions, ask me, okay?" Marcus said.

"Alright, but you asked," Shandra said with a slight smile. "I think I need you to explain to me, one more time, what we're doing. We're being hunted, and accused, put on trial, and... and... you've got silver things in you."

"Shards." Sand spoke up, correcting Shandra, unasked as usual.

"Yeah, shards, I got it, Sand, thanks," the farm girl shot back, irritated.

"I derive pleasure from clarification, Miss Jerro," Sand replied in a slight mocking tone.

Shandra rolled her eyes. "Anyway, with all that's been going on, I'm not sure I understand _why_ it's been going on."

Marcus smiled ruefully at that. "You and me both, Shandra, but I'll try and explain."

"Well, first off, the shards in you... sorry, the shard in you, and the shards you carry. Where do they come from?" Shandra asked.

"Well, one is buried in my chest. The others I simply find," Marcus said with a shrug. "Though Sand thinks the one in me calls, for want of a better word, to the others, letting me find them."

"Alright, so what are they shards _of_?" Shandra asked.

"A githyanki silver sword. That much I know, but I don't think it's just any gith silver sword," Marcus admitted.

"Know it is the sword of Gith, the weapon that united and divided the githzerai and the githyanki," Zhjaeve said, speaking for the first time.

Shandra let out a cry of frustration. "Okay, see, that's where you start to lose me. Why is this thing _inside_ you? Why is it broken? And what are you supposed to do with it? Kill a dragon, or..."

"I wish it were as simple as killing a dragon," Marcus replied. "I'm supposed to use it against the King of Shadows."

"And the King of Shadows is who? Like Elminster, except evil?" the farm girl asked.

"No, at least I hope not. He was once a being called the Guardian, crafted by the Illefarn Empire." _If you can call what they did to the poor bugger crafting,_ the harbourman thought darkly.

"Like a golem?" Shandra asked.

Marcus shrugged. "I have no idea, not yet and any rate."

"But you're willing to keep trying to find out?" Shandra asked, sounding sceptical.

"There's not much choice in the matter. If I don't try, things will just get worse."

"You mean like Black Garius trying to kill you... before you took care of him, right?" The farm girl asked.

"Something like that, I guess, though Garius was tied up helping the King of Shadows... Oh, fuck!" Marcus swore as he realised something he hoped wasn't true. Turning to Zhjaeve he asked, "That Shadow Reaver, that was the result of the ritual Garius performed here, wasn't it?"

Zhjaeve nodded solemnly. "Yes. Garius and the four mages helping him all have become Shadow Reavers," the githzerai said. "Know you did disrupt the ritual so they were not fully transformed. That is why we were able to drive the one we faced away."

"Gee, thanks Z-girl for telling us _now_," Neeshka complained.

"So what do those githyanki want with you? Are they with the King of Shadows too?" Shandra asked.

"No, thank Torm, but they want the shards... and the sword back." Marcus replied.

"Know that they seek the sword of Gith for their own. It is a sacred thing, and they will not rest until it is back in their possession," Zhjaeve said.

"But one of those shards is in your chest. If it comes out, you're dead," Shandra pointed out.

"Yes. Gives me such a warm fuzzy feeling just thinking about it," Marcus replied with sarcasm.

The farm girl shook her head. "This is the most bizarre series of events I've ever heard. So what are you going to do about all this, exactly?"

"It's my duty to stop the King of Shadows. As I have the shards, it's my responsibility," Marcus replied. "Once the sword is remade, if it can be remade, I'm the only one who can wield it due to the shard that's in me."

"Alright, well, as long as you don't get me killed doing it, I'll do what I can," Shandra said ruefully.

"Don't worry, I have faith you'll pull through," the harbourman said.

"Well, I'm glad _you_ think so," Shandra replied. "But thanks, I appreciate the support."

"You're welcome. Now come on, let's see how Aldanon has gotten on with finding Ammon's Haven," Marcus said.

* * *

"Ah, welcome back! I remember you," Aldanon said with a frown. "Well, I think I do. You were the one with the shards... I hope. Yes?" he asked eagerly. "I am so pleased you let me visit... the last time I was here I wasn't able to examine much of the Keep or the library, quite a shame."

Marcus groaned inwardly. _This is the reason I stay clear of the old sage,_ he thought. "I was wondering how the search for the secret retreat of Ammon Jerro was going?"

"Well, I occasionally return to that side project when I have time, but to be honest, it's a difficult stone to crack. I mean, it's one thing to know about a place, and quite another to find it," the sage said. "The distinction is subtle, but there."

The harbourman massaged his temples. "What do you need to find it?" he asked, resigned to the fact that this was going to take a while.

"Let's see... you have explored the Illefarn ruins... undergone the Ritual of Purification... and travelled to Old Owl Well..." Aldanon said, as if he were crossing items off a list. "Although I seem to recall something regarding getting several vials of dragon's blood," the sage went on. "And, of course, some lich dust," he added flippantly. "Then there's the three keys, bronze, silver, and red platinum. The red platinum one might need to be reforged. I think one of the pieces is in Amn." Aldanon paused. "Or was it the Underdark?"

Marcus let out a slow sigh, willing himself not to cast a polymorph spell on the sage, no matter how funny it might be.

"Master Aldanon, here is the map with the position marked, as you requested," Harcourt said as he entered carrying a large map.

"What map?" Shandra asked, curious. "What position?"

"_My_ question exactly, what is this nonsense?" Aldanon asked, irritated by the interruption. "I didn't ask for any _map_. Can't you see we're having an important discussion here?"

"Master Aldanon... you requested I chart a possible location for you, based on the information you provided," Harcourt replied, totally unfazed by the old sage. "I had the Master Cartographer and several assistants cross-checking the records, and you were correct... this location cannot be scryed, and it bears the telltale arcane marks you indicated would be there."

"So? Marks of what?" Aldanon asked, his irritation growing. "Specifics, _please_, or I'll get the gardener to handle my errands from now on."

"Master Aldanon... you did not say what this place was, only what to look for," Harcourt replied, rolling his eyes. "As you have said, it is one thing to find a place, and quite another thing to know about it at all," he added with a hint of sarcasm.

By this time Marcus had taken the map from Harcourt and was studying it. "Is that... Ammon Jerro's haven?" he asked, pointing to the location that was clearly marked.

The sage seemed surprised. "It seems so. What a relief," he said, then to himself he added, "Though I could have used some dragon blood and some lich dust, and there's no way _I'd_ go hunting for reagents like that, no thank you." Aldanon turned to Harcourt. "But yes, I seem to recall asking for this," he acknowledged. "Well done, Aldanon, I say... which I do, good for me. Wouldn't you agree?" the sage asked Marcus.

The harbourman rolled his eyes. "But how in the hells did you find it?"

"Well, there were two things I felt would be essential in a haven... secrecy and its ties to the court of Neverwinter," Aldanon explained. "Secrecy means a place that cannot be scryed. So I hired several diviners in my employ to scan a selected area based on shipments of reagents to a few obscure locations indicated in the court records. Quite simple, really," he said with a shrug.

"Sure looks buried deep within the mountains," Shandra observed wearily.

"Oh, well, I am not_ certain_ it's there, but if I were to guess where one would place a labyrinth of deathtraps, well, mountains are always a good source of stone," Aldanon said. "Labyrinths need walls, you know, and stone walls seem to be favoured."

"Great. Can we_ go_ now?" Shandra asked, getting irritated with the sage. "My ancestor's death-filled labyrinth awaits, apparently."

"Shandra, I'm sure it won't be that bad," Marcus said reassuringly.

"No, of course not, it'll be _worse_," Shandra replied with a snort as they left the keep.

"Master Aldanon, there was more to the map and what the diviners found. Even with the wards, the concentration of infernal magics there..." Harcourt spoke up worriedly.

"Oh... trust me, demons shouldn't pose any problems, especially for a well-trained, armed, spirited group like that," Aldanon replied somewhat dismissively. "Now, if you had told me that Garius fellow had completed that terrible ritual of shadows,_ then_ I would be concerned."


	34. Finding Haven

"Thank the gods those tests are over with," Shandra grumbled. "My grandfather really liked his privacy, a little too much if you ask me," she said, eyeing the very ominous entrance with the imposing iron golem standing nearby. "Now comes the really_ fun_ part." The farm girl shuddered. "Got to spill some of my blood. Are you sure we're ready for this? If it was this hard getting in, who knows how long it'll take to get back out?" Shandra asked.

Marcus rubbed his beard in thought. "We're ready as we'll ever be. We need answers only your grandfather can give, though I suspect getting to him won't be as easy as walking through the front door. Only do this if you're ready, Shandra," he said, indicating the pedestal.

The farm girl smiled weakly. "Alright... I mean, we've come all this way, right?" She paused. "Watch my back in case this summons something bad." Shandra withdrew a dagger and pricked the tip of her finger which she then held over the pedestal, and waited for a few drops of blood to fall.

Almost as soon as a drop of Shandra's blood hit the pedestal several things happened at once. There was a blinding flash of light, and the sound of the heavy metal door barring their way opening, and Neeshka visibly squirmed, looking pained, but most worryingly of all there was no sign of Shandra.

"What in the hells just happened?" Khelgar bellowed. "Where's Shandra?"

"Just as a guess, stumpy, she's been teleported somewhere within Ammon's Haven," Neeshka replied. "When Shandra opened the way, the magical barriers shielding this place dropped momentarily, and I can tell you there's a whole mess of lower planes magic, which means there's going to be devils and demons waiting for us." The tiefling didn't look too pleased about that prospect.

"Oh, wonderful," Marcus muttered. "Looks as though Shandra was right. It is worse."

* * *

In the heart of the Mere of Dead Men, deep underground paced the being that had once been the Luskan mage Black Garius. However the only thing to link him to his former life was his voice, for now he was now a Shadow Reaver.

Reaver Garius turned suddenly as he heard the Reaver he'd sent to destroy the Statues of Purification arrive. "You have returned... and you have been wounded." he asked, curiously, raising a non-existent eyebrow.

"Yes, milord Garius... the Harbourman, the one who disrupted our ritual at Crossroad Keep, he hounds us still. Let me gather my strength, and then I..." the injured Reaver replied, frustrated.

"My only concern is the Ritual of Purification... as it should have been yours," Garius snapped coldly. "Are the statues intact? Can the ritual still be performed?

The injured Reaver seemed to hesitate uncertainly. "The Harbourman was able to finish a portion of the Ritual, milord. But by itself, it is not enough to stop us."

"By itself?" asked Garius angrily. "Explain."

"When I arrived at the ruins of Illefarn another had come before the Harbourman and I," the injured Reaver explained. "I was able to destroy the statue that granted the fifth part of the ritual but someone completed it before I could stop them." The Reaver paused. "And I do not know who it was."

Garius folded his bony arms. "I see. So it seems there is another player in this war. It is no matter. Once we slay the Harbourman, then the future for our King is assured."

"Milord Garius... the Harbourman is stronger than before. He cannot destroy us, yes... but in battle, he may be a match for any of us."

"Indeed? He may be able to challenge one of us, but not all of us, I think," Garius said smugly, as behind him could be seen three other Reavers.

* * *

Mephasm smiled slightly on seeing Marcus. "Greetings, my friend," he said, surprised to see the harbourman as he knew only one of Jerro blood could enter the haven.

Neeshka scowled. "Not _this_ guy again," she muttered.

"Ah... Neeshka. You came at last," the pit fiend remarked. "Somehow though, that does not surprise me."

The tiefling's scowl deepened. "You don't sound surprised to see me... or us," she said.

Mephasm simply grinned. "My dear, if Baator teaches one anything, it is that _everything_ has happened countless times before... and the resolutions are just as predictable. And blood does attract blood, after all... there _is_ power in such things."

Neeshka narrowed her eyes at the pit fiend as she didn't like the sound of that at all, not with her mother turning up so suddenly. _Wonderful, this is where I find out who dear old gramps is,_ she thought darkly.

"Well, it's good to see a familiar face here," Marcus said with caution, as he'd seen the dark look pass over Neeshka's face.

"As I am pleased to see you. Unfortunately, this is not the best of circumstances," the pit fiend explained. "You find me bound once more against my will. This time my cage is larger and more secure." Mephasm waved a hand at the circle in which he stood.

"I find it convenient that you're here in Ammon Jerro's Haven," Marcus said flatly.

Mephasm raised a fine eyebrow. "Ah, so you've figured some of it out, have you?" he asked. "I had wondered if you would. If you're implying that I have been less than honest with you, you are correct. Jerro is the master of Zaxis and I, as well as the others here. It was Jerro, not the githyanki, who summoned me to the caves. Should Zaxis have failed, I was to keep the githyanki bottled up at the portal."

"Ugh... Zaxis," Neeshka muttered under her breath, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

The pit fiend hid his smile at the tiefling's reaction to the demon, as it was much the same as his own. "When you arrived, I saw a way to escape my bonds. However, I suspected you would not help me if you knew who held my reins, so to speak. Unfortunately, shortly after my escape, Jerro found me again, and this time he ensured my bonds were unbreakable," Mephasm explained. "Only Ammon himself could free me... or one who is a blood descendant. Such a person could command the power of this place."

"Shandra is Ammon Jerro's granddaughter," Marcus replied.

Mephasm arched an eyebrow. "I had wondered how you were able to enter this place, and one of the Jerro line still lives. But if you brought Shandra here, where is she? I do not see her among you."

"She disappeared as we entered this place," Neeshka said, sounding worried.

"I see. You_ must_ find her." The pit fiend spoke with urgency. "She is in great peril here. I will help you as I am able. I do not know where Shandra is, but I hope she will find her way to me before encountering the other demons and devils here."

"Can you tell me anything about the other fiends?" Marcus asked, concerned.

"I can tell you of two," Mephasm said. "There is Blooden, a leader among the succubi. She is as violent as she is seductive, so be careful. The other is Baalbisan, a balor so confident in his power that he does not bother to surround himself with minions like the others. He especially scorns the presence of females," the pit fiend said, looking at Neeshka and Elanee. "Most of the demons and devils here use their minions to fight each other, though such activity is pointless. Trapped in these summoning circles, they cannot be harmed, nor can they harm each other."

"If it's pointless, why do they fight?" Khelgar asked, confused.

Mephasm smiled. "The small scuffles in this place are just smaller aspects of the Blood War. It is the ultimate conflict of law versus chaos, between the Nine Hells and the Abyss. Though the battles usually take place in the gray waste of Hades, the Blood War can occur anywhere that demons and devils converge. This place exploits the strife between demons and devils. Great energy is created by the constant tension between opposites here, and that energy is harnessed to empower Ammon Jerro."

"You know, I thought this place was supposed to be a retreat for a court warlock," Neeshka said, frowning.

"Whatever it may have been before, it has been transformed into this... prison," Mephasm said. "If you ever wish to leave this place, you must get into the laboratory which lies at the centre of this area. It is possible for me to subvert the portal's power to allow it to do other things, like take you into the laboratory, but my power alone isn't enough," he said, pointing to an inactive portal on the other side of the room. "You must convince three others to help you. That will be no easy task, as the other fiends here may attempt to thwart or manipulate you."

"Oh, just what I want to be doing, asking the lower planes for help," Marcus muttered. "How can I convince the others to help?" he asked

"There is no simple answer to your question. The other fiends here will be... reluctant to help you, unless it serves their interests," Mephasm admitted. "But you are in a unique position. You may roam these halls with relative freedom while they are trapped."

"And that means what, exactly?" Neeshka asked with a scowl.

"The demons and devils continue their age-old battle even here, pitting their minions against each other. Putting one fiend in a compromising position may convince another to help you," Mephasm said as he made part of the portal active. "I've done what I can. Go quickly, and be on your guard."

* * *

"It steps forward to let me see it more clearly," the large demon demanded as it became aware of Marcus and his party.

The harbourman raised an eyebrow. _A demon with poor vision? Interesting,_ he thought.

"Huh, a balor demon. Be careful, harbour boy, one wrong answer, and we won't get to ask another question," Neeshka said, gazing up at the huge creature. "Just stay calm, don't let him get to you."

The balor sniffed the air, and then growled. "What is this thin-blooded thing I hear, its flesh reeking with the stench of the baatezu?" the demon asked. "Is it female? It must be, it is too _weak_ to be otherwise."

Khelgar, Elanee and Sand all groaned inwardly as they knew that Neeshka wouldn't let that insult slide. They looked to Marcus who had his head buried in his hands. It seemed he was resigned to the fact that things were about to go south.

Neeshka's eyes flashed dangerously. "_Weak? Weak?_" she cried. "That's a laugh, saying that, while _I'm_ out here and you're trapped inside that summoning circle, you half-witted tanar'ri hindlicker!"

The balor snorted with contempt. "It thinks bold words make it superior? It is a small drop of evil, a random and hissing bloodfly only... weak as a baatezu, weaker as a _female_," he snarled.

"And how did _you_ get here?" the tiefling asked, her temper all but gone. "Did they lure you in with the promise of a dozen goblets of blood on a silver platter of horse entrails? If so, I hope that circle fits you nice and tight, you bone-gnawing, ichor-drinking glutton!"

Marcus chuckled at his lover's nonsensical tirade, as there was some truth to it. "My friend has a point, you know, tanar'ri." _This must be Baalbisan that M told us about, as he doesn't seem to like Neesh at all,_ the harbourman thought.

Neeshka grinned evilly. "Ha! So there, thinking you can be mean and yell at me about being weak, when _you_ can't do anything but talk!"

"The half-breed, it is obvious, but it who orders the half-breed..." the balor asked.

"I _do not_ order Neeshka, demon," Marcus growled.

Baalbisan didn't seem to notice the implied threat. "It has a pip-squeaky voice, so much like a female, but also like many of the lesser mortal races. Is it female?"

The harbourman rolled his eyes. "No, I'm _not_ female, you idiot."

"But it looks so female. How can I be certain?" the balor asked.

Marcus rubbed his beard in thought for a few moments and then grinned. "Well, I suppose I could_ show_ you. Stand back, though, I think I'll need a lot of room."

Baalbisan raised his eyebrows. "It offers to reveal its parts, but my vision is not what it was. I doubt I could make out something so diminutive," he laughed.

"Them are fighting words," Khelgar hissed softly, hefting his war axe. The dwarf would see to the removal of the demon's parts for insulting his friend's manhood.

"Hey!" Neeshka cried, indignant. "That's not nice, and from what I've seen, I can tell you it's not small at all," she said, defending her lover's manhood.

"The female baatezu shall be silent in my presence! Her stench is more than I can bear!" the balor roared.

"Neeshka can say whatever she wants, demon, and _you_ shall be silent in _my_ presence!" Marcus replied, getting severely annoyed with Baalbisan.

"It leaves now. I will not stand its presence. Do not anger me..." Baalbisan cried in anger.

"Oh, well, too bad for you then, because _we're_ staying right here and there's _nothing_ you can do about it," Marcus replied, taunting the demon.

"Rrrrrghh! My memory is longer than a thousand of its lifetimes and my wrath is legion!" Baalbisan roared.

"And yet there you stand, trapped in a summoning circle with no escape," the harbourman casually pointed out.

"So, does this mean you can't _ever_ forget that_ I_ insulted _you_?" Neeshka asked, rubbing her hands together in glee. "I like the sound of that."

"Bethshiva take it! I will see it _suffer_ for its insolence!" Baalbisan cried. "Curses, even the sound of my matron's horrid name drives me mad! Oh, Bethshiva, may the tanar'ri females bind you for their pleasure..."

Sand blinked in surprise. "Well, well, you're not very bright, are you?" he murmured. "Marcus, it would seem we have the True Name of this demon's matron. With it, I think we have something that another within these halls may want," the wizard informed the harbourman.

* * *

"My sisters, what have you brought me? A diversion?" asked the erinyes within the summoning circle gleefully.

"Mortal trespassers, dearest Hezebel. They come from Baalbisan," one of the erinyes replied.

Hezebel arched an eyebrow. "So... Baalbisan has enlisted a lesser species to do his bidding. Tell me, what task did he set for you?" she asked.

Marcus almost smiled. "No task, not after we upset him, quite spectacularly I may add. I'm trying to warp the portal," the harbourman explained, nodding towards said portal, "with the help of the fiends imprisoned here so that it takes me into the laboratory."

"What a bold and interesting idea," Hezebel said, clapping her hands. "Yes... I believe I can help you with your plan. I have heard that when you upset Baalbisan, really infuriate him, he will blurt out the True Name of his abyssal matron, like it is a curse. I would know this name." The erinyes then smiled her most winning and seductive smile. "You will discover it for me, of course."

Neeshka had to stop herself from gagging at such a cheap ploy, one if she were honest she had used more than once.

The harbourman just grinned. "The charm isn't necessary," he said, making Hezebel pout. "The True Name of Baalbisan's mother's is Bethshiva."

Hezebel frowned. "Hmmm... interesting. That is rather short for a True Name," she said.

"Are True Names supposed to be longer than that?" Marcus asked.

"Oh yes, much longer. True Names are supposed to be very long for beings of great power, as I would have thought a balor's matron would be," Hezebel said thoughtfully. "Perhaps that is Baalbisan's great secret... that his mother is a lesser fiend. You have supplied the information I requested, so I will fulfil my end of the agreement. I shall assist you in your quest to enter the laboratory." So saying, Hezebel made another section of the portal active. "Goodbye, my sweetling. You've been such a pleasant diversion." The erinyes waved cheerfully, far too cheerfully for the harbourman's liking.

They hadn't long left Hezebel's room when Marcus stopped suddenly in the hallway. _"Can you hear me?"_ Shandra's voice echoed in the harbourman's head.

_"What the... Sh__andra?"_ Marcus asked, surprised.

_"Yes__, it's me. This place is sealed by demons... and devils. But listen... they say that their lord is unbeatable,"_ the farm girl said.

_"No__, I'd never have guessed that, Shandra, and we are talking about devils and demons. They aren't likely to tell you the truth if you ask, they'll tell you want they want you to know. Also, this is your grandfather we're looking for. He might be a very powerful warlock but he isn't unbeatable. Stay where you are, we're going to try to get to you,"_ Marcus replied, hoping the farm girl would actually do something right.

_"__I don't think we can get to each other yet. I've tried, this place is... difficult to figure out. Be careful. I don't think they were lying about this,"_ Shandra said.

_"Shan__dra...? Shandra...?"_ Marcus asked. "Oh blast it," he muttered, realising he'd lost contact with her.

"What happened, lad?" Khelgar asked, concerned.

"I heard Shandra in my head, she's somewhere else around here," the harbourman replied, frowning. "I've also got a horrid feeling she's going to do something really, _really_ dumb."

"This isn't going to end well for the farm girl, is it?" Neeshka asked, worried.

"No, I do not believe it will," Sand confirmed gravely. "All we can do is hope to control the damage done."

Marcus sighed. "Why do I get all the easy jobs?" he wondered. "Come on, let's see if we can find Shandra."

The next captive in Ammon's maze of death was the harbourman's old friend the demon Zaxis, who was so happy to see him that Zaxis sent some of his lesser brethren against Marcus. The demon refused to help, but that was no real surprise. They next encountered the pit fiend Kouraboros who, unlike Mephasm, was in his true form. The pit fiend's task was fairly simple and easily completed and Kouraboros, like Mephasm and Hezebel before him, held up his end of the agreement. Lastly they came to the succubus, Blooden. Her task was again straight forward even if Marcus found it really bizarre and very macabre, for it turned out that Blooden enjoyed nothing more than watching her minions getting torn to pieces by Kouraboros' hell hounds.

Blooden smiled but it was anything but pleasant. "I do so enjoy that, it really gets the blood flowing," she said. "Now that you've entertained me, mortal, you can ask me anything, within reason."

_Well__, I won't be asking for you for a kiss,_ the harbourman thought. "Who are you?" he asked.

The succubus raised an eyebrow. "You haven't heard of me? That's disappointing." She almost sounded hurt.

"All I know is that your name is Blooden," Marcus replied.

"I suspect I know who told you that much at least," the succubus said, sounding annoyed. "I am Blooden, mistress of the Deep Crest, the breeding grounds of the Abyss."

"Breeding grounds?" Neeshka asked, trying to keep the curiosity out of her voice and failing badly.

"Are you sure you want to know, Neesh?" Marcus asked, concerned.

"No, but if there's a chance to know something, I'm taking it," the tiefling replied.

"Oh, yes, I am the mistress in charge of arrangements, and seductions, and the chase and the catch and the mating and the slaying. Very little escapes my eye, but here... my sight is limited." Blooden smiled, her eyes sparkling. _Perhaps there is some entertainment to be had,_ she thought. "I have the power to trace heritages, blood lines, all along the great barbed tree that divides us all, from the most full-blooded of the lords to lowest half-breeds." The succubus paused, studying Neeshka. "A half-breed such as _you_, little one... my, I can even see from the slope of your horns and the curve of your tail the twisting path of your breeding. Such an odd combination... what _was_ its purpose, I wonder?" Blooden asked, looking thoughtful.

Neeshka snorted. "Like I care," she said, though it didn't sound convincing even to her own ears.

"Oh, of course you don't... but I think one of your bloodline would care _very_ much, especially under the circumstances," Blooden replied, for she knew that the tiefling was lying.

"What do you_ mean_, Blooden?" Marcus asked, short of demanding an answer.

The succubus smiled a little. "There is a smell in the air, a common blood. I suspect one of her ancestors is here, a distant father, maybe? But who knows?" Though Blooden knew who Neeshka's ancestor was, she wasn't going to tell the tiefling or her human lover. Where was the fun in that? "He would have to be quite stupid to sire one such as her and risk diluting his bloodline... but there are _many_ such dim-witted ones who are ruled by their parts and not their minds." What puzzled Blooden was that she knew Neeshka's grand-sire was anything but dim-witted so there was some sort of plan, though the succubus had no idea what that might be.

"Stupid, in what way?"" the harbourman asked.

Blooden shrugged. "There is no gain in such a thing, to have a bloodfly such as her as a descendent. She could never achieve any true status in the Lower Planes. Then again, at least she would not have to bear the indignity of being bound as we are. Still, it is a minor advantage only."

"As long as you're_ in_ there, and I'm _out_ here, that's fine by me," Neeshka shot back angrily.

Blooden's eyes flashed with contempt for the tiefling. "Yes... how _odd_ our status is reversed in your backwards realm. But you bore me, half-breed..."

"So what _do_ you know about my bloodline? Or are you just pretending to know something, like the rest of the tanar'ri here?" Neeshka's tail swished in agitation, and Marcus put a hand on his lover's shoulder to try and reassure her.

"Such a fiery little minx. I can see why he likes you so much," Blooden replied, her eyes full of malice. "But I'm not the one here that you should be asking."

"Then who should we ask, demoness?" Marcus demanded.

"Oh, I'm not going to make it _that_ easy for you," Blooden laughed. It was a chilling sound with no real humour in it.

"There are only three baatezu here, dear boy," Sand murmured. "I should think it was obvious, since we can eliminate the erinyes."

Marcus frowned. That left Mephasm and Kouraboros, and he wasn't sure which one was the worst choice. "Fine, be that way, we still have to confront Ammon Jerro. That's going to go well, I'm sure," he said to Blooden as they walked toward the now active portal that would take them to the laboratory.

"Oh, I do so hope you survive the encounter. He's not known to be that receptive to visitors," Blooden called, laughing coldly.

* * *

"Sir Nevalle, what brings you to Crossroads Keep?" Kana asked, all flustered at the sudden arrival of the captain of the Nine.

"Where is the squire, Lieutenant Kana?" Nevalle asked. "Lord Nasher requires his presence in Neverwinter."

"He isn't here, Sir Nevalle. As I understand it, he left in search of Ammon Jerro's Haven, wherever that might be."

The captain of the Nine frowned. "I see, then he will no doubt be quite some time. I shall remain here and await his return."

"Very well, Sir Nevalle, I shall have a room prepared," Kana replied. "If I may ask, why is the squire being recalled to Neverwinter?"

Nevalle couldn't help but smile despite his earlier misgivings. "Why, to attend his own knighting ceremony. Something he is_ not_ to know about," the knight added.

Katriona walked slowly over the lieutenant, looking stunned. "By the gods, Kana, he's going to need his own company now," she said after Nevalle had left the Great Hall.

Kana sighed. "I know, Kat, it's a good job you've been working on the idea." The two women had become friends once Kana had learned to relax a little. "Do we have enough to form the captain's company?" she asked.

Katriona smiled. "More than enough, no shortage of people wanting the assignment. Captain Ballard is more than willing to command it. His men are ready and able, as are Sergeant Dobbson and his men. By the time Marcus returns from Neverwinter, we'll have a full company, and our overall unit strength won't be affected that much."

* * *

"Ah, that would the alarm... no doubt warning the inhabitants that there are intruders that need to be violently dispatched," Sand said sarcastically, as no sooner than they had stepped into Ammon's lab than they had tripped some sort of magical ward.

Within a few moments, there was a blinding flash of light and there stood none other than Ammon Jerro, looking very annoyed. "Intruders... unbidden and unwelcome. Are you prepared to pay the price?" he asked angrily as he advanced menacingly.

Marcus let out a sigh. "So we meet again, Ammon Jerro," he said. The harbourman was so used to being threatened he just took it in stride.

That made the warlock stop short. "_You!_ The one from Neverwinter. How you entered this place is a mystery, but it was a mistake... one which will soon be..." Ammon let his voice trail off as he sensed something. "Why, you have brought gifts. You carry the shards... and one is even lodged_ inside_ you. Interesting." The warlock smiled a truly sinister smile. "Let me take them off your hands... and from your corpse." So saying, Ammon raised his hands as if he were about to cast an incantation.

Zhjaeve, who had been all but invisible until now, stepped forward. "Know that if you slay the Kalach-Cha, Ammon Jerro, then the King of Shadows has already won, for only the Kalach-Cha can wield the broken sword of Gith and defeat the shadow that hides in darkness," she warned.

Ammon lowered his hands, thinking, as he recalled Mephasm telling him something much like what the githzerai had said. "This changes things," the warlock mused. "But how did you enter this place?"

_"You can't beat him__. The only way to do it is to free the demons, they're granting all his power."_ Marcus heard the farm girl in his head.

_"Shandra, we're not even fighting. What's going on?"_ the harbourman asked, worried.

_"There's a way to stop him... but it's going to require some blood being spilt... mine__,"_ Shandra replied.

_"Shandra!"_ Marcus yelled. _"Do not set those demons free, that's what they want!"_

_"There's no way I'm letting you die, not after all we've been through__,"_ the farm girl said as her voice faded.

Marcus looked the warlock in the eyes. "You're about to find out how we were able to enter your Haven. You aren't the last Jerro. There is one other and she's about to do something monumentally stupid."

Ammon blinked. "The family survived?" he asked, not wanting to believe what he had just been told. The warlock suddenly staggered. "What... is... happening?" Then he realised with horror what was going on. "No!" Ammon yelled before he vanished in a flash of light.

"That wasn't anything good, was it?" Neeshka asked.

"No, it wasn't. Come on, Shandra needs saving from herself, _again_," Marcus said as he turned and ran through the portal. They emerged on the other side where Blooden had once been, but the summoning circle was eerily empty. "It figures we'd be at the wrong end," the harbourman muttered.

"The_ fool_ girl," Sand hissed on seeing the empty summoning circle.

"Let's hope we're not too late," Marcus said as he took off at a dead run through the now empty halls of Jerro's Haven.

* * *

"What you have done is brave, but foolish, Shandra Jerro," Mephasm said as the farm girl collapsed in a heap in front of the pit fiend.

There was a flash of light as Ammon arrived. Shandra had barely time to recognise her grandfather before he was on her, dragging her to her feet. "You, girl. _You_ did this," he said angrily, waving his free hand at Mephasm's broken summoning circle.

"My friends... are they..." Shandra whispered.

"Yes, your friends live. But you will not," Ammon said, rage filling him as he blasted Shandra. "_You_ destroyed my summoning circles. You set the deadliest creatures in the Lower Realms free. You have weakened me... and in so doing, you have earned _death_." So saying, he blasted her again.

"I know... grandfather... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Shandra said, her voice becoming weaker and weaker. _Is this what's like to die?_ she wondered as her world turned black.

"_Grandfather?_ What is this?" Ammon asked angrily, looking at Mephasm, slightly surprised.

"It is truth, Ammon. And by such truths is one damned," the pit fiend replied coldly.

"I have no kin. All were killed in the war against the King of Shadows... it's not _possible_," the warlock said in disbelief.

"Blood finds a way, Ammon. _Always_," Mephasm replied, shaking his head. As if to prove his point, at that moment Marcus and Neeshka rounded the corner, coming to a sudden halt.

"You lie!" Ammon bellowed. He couldn't believe the truth.

Mephasm sighed. "You know only Jerro blood could have broken the circles in this haven... as her blood has now broken mine," the pit fiend said as he began to fade away. "There are laws, Jerro. And when one carries such laws too far, they will take you where I go now."

"It looks as though I won't be getting the question of my bloodline answered," Neeshka said softly. "Is Shandra...?" the tiefling asked. She didn't want to say 'dead'.

"I don't know, Neesh," Marcus replied quietly. He signalled for Elanee and Zhjaeve to take a look at the farm girl.

Ammon let out a sigh as he turned to face the harbourman. "Just a girl... and the last of my line," he said, looking down at the still form of his granddaughter. "But stay your weapons, your spells, lest this tragedy give birth to another."

Elanee looked up, her face full of hope. "Shandra is alive," she announced, trying to hold back tears. "She is very weak and we have done all we can. It is up to Shandra now."

"So she could still die?" Marcus asked.

"Yes," was the druid's reply.

Ammon didn't quite know how to react to this news. "In my blindness, I had thought I done a great wrong. Perhaps it is not too late to rectify it... and where one was almost lost, I still might save us all," the warlock said, looking around what was left of his Haven. "Only a fraction of power remains in my Haven... But it will be enough to take us from this place."

End of Book 2

Continued in Book 3: The Knight-Captain's Destiny

* * *

_A/N Phew__, I never thought I'd get this done, what with the earthquake and all the aftershocks. Anyway, a big shout out to my wonderful beta-reader BronxWench, for without her gods know what you'd have to suffer through!_


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